


BARC at the Moon

by notquitecandid



Series: BARC Manoeuvres, Droids and Engineers [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Deviates From Canon, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27419875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notquitecandid/pseuds/notquitecandid
Summary: CC-8826 liked to pride to himself on his composure, he could admit he was completely laconic, even cold and very few people could tell what he was really thinking. That was how he preferred it. Neyo was a Marshal Commander, he led by example and it wouldn’t do any good for his men or his superiors if he decided to paint his emotions on his plastoid-clad sleeve.Then she showed up and ruined everything.Or, Neyo catches feelings for one of the new engineers.
Relationships: CC-5052 | Bly/Aayla Secura, CC-8826 Neyo/Original Character
Series: BARC Manoeuvres, Droids and Engineers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167881
Comments: 22
Kudos: 47





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Heres the fic nobody asked for. Be warned that this is my first ever attempt at fanfic, constructive criticism is a blessing so feel free to comment but be warned it’s been a very, very long time since I wrote anything that isn’t non-fiction.  
> This first chapter is told from my OCs POV but will switch to Neyo for the majority of the fic.

Chapter 1: First Impressions

_Month 1, 21BBY_

Astrid could hear her mother’s voice echo in the back of her mind as she applied the first stroke of inky black liquid to the outer corner of her eyelid, the sharp flick would soon be traced to the centre, then inner lid in order to form a perfect wing. She’d been repeating this particular process almost every morning since she was seventeen; the technique was firmly memorised but there was still a lingering fear of making a wrong move – the result of which is the decision of whether to use concealer, risking patchy smudges, or wipe her whole face clean and start over. Luckily it applied neatly, most of the time it did. Now just for the other eye, steadying a trembling elbow with her free hand, Astrid resumed the delicate work on the corresponding side of her face, letting her mother’s words swim into her thoughts once more. “Your make up should accentuate beauty not create it; highlight your existing features – add some colour for fun but don’t hide your face.” Flowing like silk on a clothesline Astrid could hear her mother’s voice as if she were in the room. Oh, how she wished her mother was here now to reassure her she looked passable.

Now, it’s not as though Astrid’s mother wanted to dictate the way her daughter presented herself but as a Hapan the importance of the visual aesthetic was drilled into Isolde’s mind from the day she took her first breath. Isolde Dril had left the Hapes Cluster as soon as she was able, she desired to live in a land where beauty was appreciated, sought after even but not enforced. A trained florist, opening a small shop on Naboo – planet of perfect climates, stunning architecture and picturesque landscapes was her dream. But above all Isolde what came to love about Naboo, her home now, was that the people were welcoming; equality was expected. Isolde thanked each and every person she encountered who praised not her beauty but the passion and creativity she poured into her bouquets and garlands. A year after settling in Theed, Isolde had become infatuated with a Morganian trader passing through the city. He was charming, enigmatic and above all the most unapologetically non-conformist man she had ever met – he was perfect. A week later he moved on and nine months later Astrid was born.

Astrid inherited much from her mother; dark eyes, thick lashes, substantial waves of mahogany hair. But whereas Isolde was tall and curvaceous; womanly, all five feet and two inches of Astrid were petite. Astrid’s pallor was entirely her father’s; pale with a blushed-grey undertone, like snow lying atop slate. Her ears, though not as pointed as those of her father, did have a sharpness to the tips. Astrid was unique to say the least and with a long-abandoned upbringing of standardised beauty – Isolde couldn’t be happier. Her daughter was different to any near-human and she’d always make sure Astrid was proud of who she was. However, Isolde was a product of her upbringing still and her constant anxieties over people judging her on her own appearance still lingered, even on Naboo. Her appearance was a form of obsessive compulsiveness: clothes had to be ironed freshly, an outfit could not be worn twice in one week and absolutely under no circumstances would she leave the safety of her home without perfectly coiffed hair and impeccable makeup. With this in mind, it was no shock that when at age thirteen Astrid succumbed to the pressure of her peers and asked about wearing makeup, Isolde felt as though she failed as a parent.

Ostensibly, Isolde had been unable to protect her daughter from her own fears of beauty, but the reality was far less drastic; Astrid was a teenager and sooner or later all teenagers follow trends and submit themselves to copying what society deems fashion – in this case it was that women commonly wore makeup. Isolde would not force her daughter not to wear makeup either, that was still to infringe on what was deemed beautiful but she did have two rules:

1) Astrid could experiment with makeup, clothing, hair – her body in whatever way she saw fit, so long as it was because she wanted to.“Nobody but you gets to decide what makes you feel beautiful, what gives you confidence, what makes you, you.”

2) Don’t use any of these; makeup or anything else to change her face or body. “The galaxy gave you your face, it’s yours to love; accentuate what you have and leave it at that.”

That seemed acceptable, by age fifteen Astrid was comfortable with a daily application of the lightest layer of foundation, near invisible blush and the occasional gloss. By age seventeen, winged eyeliner became an essential part of the routine, paired with a tiniest blend of shadow – barely a shade or two darker that her natural skin. Lipstick did not have to be subtle – surely there were too many choices of colour for that, plus colour is fun. Astrid was proud of her look, it wasn’t the most original – goodness knows winged liner is a classic but she’d worn her face this way for four years now. She’d made it hers and on lonely mornings away from home, it always brought her one hugely metaphorical step closer to her mother.

Today was the first time in those aforementioned four years that Astrid was questioning her look. Her face, now complete save lipstick, stared back at her through the mirror in unease.

Today was Astrid’s first day of her new working contract with the GAR.

Isolde loved to create, as did Astrid, but whereas Isolde found her muse in floral arrangements, watercolours and crochet - Astrid’s true calling was machines. Leaving Naboo as the age of eighteen had been hard but the opportunity to study advanced engineering at the University of Coruscant was not one to waste. Graduating at twenty-one, Astrid was fortunate to secure a contract with the Aratech Repulsor Company. Comprising of ten standard-months, the job was dull but fulfilled its promise of boosting her resumé. Her new contract with the GAR would last twenty months, promised a much higher salary and allowed for travel to multiple systems. The job description was pretty standard – BARC Speeder maintenance with room for general mechanical tasks – easy enough.

The only downside to the role was the potential of being shot at. Isolde had a colossal fit upon hearing of the job but this was a Galaxy at war; Theed had been invaded when Astrid was barely eleven years old – everywhere would be pulled into this conflict sooner or later and it would be naïve to assume one job could be safer than others these days. And now today she would dock in with _The Perseverance_ and set course with the 91st Reconnaissance Corps to Maker knows where.

_You’re drifting Astrid._

_Focus._

With a speed that surprised even herself, Astrid rapidly coiled her hair into two equal braids before weaving them together into a bun – allowing a few strands to frame her face. Practical but elegant her mother would have said. Astrid always defaulted to this style for work, it was sensible; her hair would be kept from her eyes but it was pretty enough that she felt like herself.

University had brought some additional experimentation, septum and industrial piercings along with some well-hidden tattoos – her mother, never one to go back on her own rules, had complimented them through gritted teeth. Astrid tended to neglect to wear any jewellery at work though – it made her look her age: young and youth meant inexperience, not a trope she’d like to broadcast.

Nude lipstick would be a better first impression: no nonsense. There’s nothing at all wrong with feeling comely, hells sexy even, but she was a good mechanic and Astrid would rather that be her first impression than…

_Shit. Is the eyeliner definitely not too much then?_

Glancing at the chrono display on her holowatch Astrid had already spent enough time agonising over her face. Taking one last deep breath to reassure her own face it looked acceptable, she fastened her makeup bag and allowed herself one last puff of perfume before depositing both into her modestly sized case.

Hurriedly, Astrid also made sure she had definitely packed enough contact lenses to last three months’ worth of shifts. Oh yeah, she might only be half Hapan but her eyes were still…well, fucked. Most Hapans struggled to see in the dark, Astrid found this plus an inability to focus on anything more than four feet away from her to be true.

She took one last glance around her miniscule, one-bed apartment – taking in the organised clutter fondly. Right, she’s killing time now.

_Leave or you’ll never leave._

Astrid quickly shot her head down to ensure no zips or fastenings were left open on her new GAR-issued jumpsuit. Now _that_ would be a first impression she’d never recover from, by the stars above imagine turning up to meet your new co-workers with an open fly. It wasn’t worth thinking about.

Finally, she was picking up her rucksack and wheeling her case out the front door.

Steeping out into the harsh light of the hallway, Astrid stopped only to lock her own door behind her before crossing the narrow corridor to her opposite neighbour and knocked only twice. Like her own, the door panel and frame where durasteel; clean if not a bit scuffed. Why they needed durasteel doors had been a concern when she first viewed the property but all her fellow tenants had reassured her that the surrounding neighbourhood was not as “rough” as it was when the complex was constructed. The walls were much more homely, warmth provided by yellow wallpaper that had likely been cream when it was first applied. The carpets, always smelling clean, were a deep chestnut with a turquoise geometric pattern.

Garish, her mother had called it on her first visit.

The only furnishings in the strip of hallway were the welcoming mats of her neighbours and a single chrome sideboard, frosted white, providing a plinth to some fresh blooms; likely imported from Alderaan. Yes, the building was old but it was clean and maintained with an open-heartedness. She’d miss it.

Astrid’s brooding was interrupted so suddenly by the door sliding open that she jumped back in surprise. Wi Rhig, an elderly Nautolan with kind eyes and a stout figure, looked at Astrid with a knowing smile as she leaned against her doorframe.

“I’ll take good care of the place you know.” Her voice, though loud and thickly accented, was always comforting to Astrid. It carried a warmth, not gentle or soft but undeniably compassionate. The persistent lingering of Wi’s accent was perhaps the most comforting though, it reminded Astrid that she too was a foreigner living on Coruscant, a kindred spirit, a different kind of person in the same circumstance. Wi had lived here almost forty years now but still, it was a connection to the older woman that Astrid cherished.

Astrid couldn’t help but smile back, Wi really was infectious at times. “I know you will and I can’t thank you enough, but I will miss it and I’ll miss you” she had said silently placing a spare key card into Wi’s open hand.

“You won’t have time to miss me!” Wi tutted, “Off with the GAR on your fancy cruiser, doing all the fixing and mending that needs doing – good work and it’s nowt to be sniffed at.” Looking at Astrid’s ashamed expression she quickly added “Hey now, enough of that, there’s nothing wrong with being nervous but all I’m saying is you don’t need to be. Just do your best but make sure you come home in one piece ya hear?”.

“I hear you.” Astrid smiled, looking up at the woman she felt compelled to say more – tell her how much she’d grown to love her in the past year, how much she loved hearing her sing as she milled around her own apartment, how much she loved that she always dropped off extra food and baked goods to Astrid’s door. She was like a surrogate grandmother, Astrid’s own grandmother being a Hapan aristocrat with no interest in a mixed-race granddaughter. With no way to form these words without risking tears, Astrid simply stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Wi’s ample shoulder’s. Her hands could not meet in the middle of Wi’s back but she clutched with all the strength she could muster, grounding herself as if letting go would allow the weight of change to push her body into the floor. Immediately, Astrid felt Wi’s arm wrap around her just as tight – the only crack in her attempt to downplay the impact of Astrid leaving.

“Get going you little fool or you’ll never leave” Wi laughed, her voice followed by the smallest of sniffles.

Astrid allowed one final goodbye and thanks before picking up her case again and making her way into the apartment elevator.

[Break]

The glare of the morning sky was harsh, even to Astrid’s eyes - suitable only to the perpetual daylight of Hapes; a land she’d never set foot on. The sky was too white, as though it had been bleached yet, street lights still purposelessly ignited the surroundings. Stepping into the vicinity of the docking bay Astrid didn’t know whether to be relieved that she’d managed to locate _The Perseverance_ so quickly or surrender to the sharp pricks of fear stabbing her in the stomach. It was a cool morning; the breeze on the outdoor landing platform carrying a definite chill but the reality of the situation Astrid had found herself in still resulted in sweat to seep from the backs of her knees and the palms of her hands.

Looking at the Star Destroyer now, she was terrified. It was big, impossibly big – she knew she would be joining a crew of over seven-thousand, not including the two-thousand clone troopers but this. This was real, right in front of her. She didn’t even know where to go, she was a late addition to the crew, her job had opened at the last minute and she’d been told at the resulting interview there and then she had the job and given little more than her start date and how to order her uniform from the holonet.

Apparently the team she was joining was an engineer short after an unexpected departure. That was another worry, she was joining an established team – they’d likely been functioning together since the fighting began over a year ago. She’d have to have a solo induction, no ice-breakers. Unusual for a large operation vessel but she was a civilian in a war fought by an army that was meticulously created, not selected. No, recruitment wasn’t exactly large scale. 

_Seriously Astrid, are you going to stand on the platform like an idiot or are you going to enter the ship and hope there’s someone standing above the ramp?_

Finally, she spotted an armoured figure reading off a datapad. He was obviously a clone, Astrid had seen enough propaganda and patrolling guards painted in red to recognise that but she was nervous to approach him – they’re bred for war, the last thing he’d want to is give directions but she had no other choice.

Already making her way towards him, Astrid tried to will herself to walk without stumbling. Isolde glided like fine embroidery, gracefully weaving in and out of pressed linen. Astrid shuffled like a drunken bantha at the best of times. Most would assume someone so petite to be nimble but she was unforgivably clumsy. Unless she was on ice – but she hadn’t skated in months, regrettable but she wouldn’t be home now for good while. Three months station before a smaller transport would rotate the civilian teams – giving her one week of leave before docking again.

She must have entered the trooper’s field of vision now because a helmet was suddenly snapping up from whatever report he was engrossed in before snapping back down to meet her eyes through his visor.

The troopers was bedecked in plastoid, like all clones but unlike the Coruscant guard, his was painted… _force_ , the colour was lost to Astrid - all she could see was the sand of the Lake Country back home; a shimmering gold turned orange with flickers of diamonds as the waves would dampen it as the sun steadily set. She needed to stop thinking of Naboo, she’d live in Coruscant for four years now and had never felt this homesick – fear of change, that’s all it was. She needed to get a grip.

What was happening? _Shit,_ he’s waiting for her to speak.

“Hi, urgh, I’m new – engineering and I don’t know where I’m supposed to go for induction and sorry. Can you help me please?” Gods, he was still staring, well it looked like it anyway. His eyes are completely obscured by the visor but he must have heard her because his head tilted to the side.

_Wait. Was that rude?!_

“Not that I’m presuming helping is part of your job!” She quickly amended, vomiting out her words with the speed of a lizard afraid of burning its feet on hot stone, “I just, you’re the only person here and I don’t know if I’m supposed to ask inside or wait here – sorry I’m…”

“Woah,” was all he offered, obvious humour in his voice. “Miss Dril I’m assuming?” he questioned with an unexpected gentleness, though the amusement lingered.

“Yeah…” Was all Astrid could offer, stricken dumb by her own nerves – her confusion at being recognised must have been apparent because the trooper was shaking his shoulders in silent laughter.

He quickly explained that it was a good job she did find him as he’d been told to keep an eye out for a new engineer to begin a last minute induction to the crew – after taking some security confirmation he proceeded to gesture Astrid towards one of the many entrance ramps.

Once inside he’d removed his helmet, holding it by the lip in his left hand and thrusting his right towards Astrid. “Ponds.” He offered, his smile practically splitting his face.

“Astrid” she had answered grasping his hand and shaking it twice before releasing and allowing a now considerably less nervous smile to grace her features.

With the obstruction gone she could finally see his face. It shouldn’t have been a revelation really, all the clones shared the same face; tan with golden-brown eyes with a hint of crow’s feet, a straight nose, sharp but narrow jaw and slightly plumper than average lips. His hair, completely shaven. Nothing unusual or even stunningly attractive but the warmth that Ponds radiated was soothing in a way that couldn’t be described. The fact that he was a kind man was undeniable and that was even more confusing. The holonews broadcast always described the clones as dependable yes, strong, resilient; protectors of the peace, but they were also engineered to fight. They had no other purpose in the galaxy- yes they were human but humans bred for war. Dangerous. Warmth and kindness, especially humour, was not what she’d expected when gazing at the stone-faced individuals in the posters on the subway. Ponds did not look like the face of an army. 

[Break]

They’d been walking for almost an hour already, in and out of corridors, but no time had seemed to pass at all with Ponds helpfully pointing out each room and what it contained – alongside humorous anecdotes of his time in the GAR. His personality was addictive and his dedication to ensure she knew the ins and outs of the various safety procedures and floorplans to be found were genuine.

By the time Ponds had led her to the hanger, Astrid finally decided to direct her own path of conversation. “So Ponds is an unusual name.”

_I hope that’s not offensive_

Suddenly the confident humour in Ponds eyes turned sheepish “One of my first campaigns,” he’d began “we’d been on our BARCs for hours and it was so humid, my visor was completely covered in steam so I signalled to pull over so that I could clean it up and check the maps. I stopped the BARC, stepped off to the right and fell straight into a pond.” He finished with a grin.

Astrid, polite, ever-conscious Astrid could not stop the fits of laughter that escaped her mouth, fighting and uncontainable – Ponds joined in at least.

“So what’s your real name?” she’d asked on recovering.

“CT-411.” He did not say it unkindly but it was enough for Astrid to realise her mistake all the same. Of course he had no name. Clones weren’t given names, they were chosen by themselves or unofficially assigned by their brothers. She felt like the worst person in the entire universe right then and there.

Ponds, as if sensing her discomfort, stopped at her and smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

They resumed the rest of the induction in silence, until Astrid tripped over a mouse droid and Ponds almost passed out from laughing at her dramatic flailing of limbs.

[Break]

Over the period of her first rotation Astrid learned Ponds was a commander, not a trooper. Modesty could be added to his attributes then. Over the course of two months he’d check on Astrid at her station as often as he could – ensure her team were making her feel welcome and that she had company in the mess when he was free, always with a mirthful tale or two at hand.

Regretfully, he’d informed her on the fifty-nineth day of their friendship that he’d be moving out to re-join his own division of the 91st. He was only stationed here temporarily to oversee some new battle tactics with several other high-ranking members of the Corps. Astrid had wholeheartedly wished him all the best but couldn’t keep the dejected look from her face.

Ponds had smiled at her, held her hand and promised to see her again, this time with even more stories.

Mostly, the clones Astrid encountered tended to keep to themselves – they tended to be distrustful of droids in general (who could blame them) but also cautious of “civies” such as herself. Most weren’t unkind, just distant. The few that she became acquainted with demonstrated that despite being literal identical clones, each formed very different personalities – they all had the same voice but the alterations in delivery and pitch were obvious after just a short time around them. Each man had the same face but took efforts to customize his hair, armour and tattoos in the most unique ways possible – sometimes with outrageous effects. Many of the clones founded an adherence to a Mandalorian inspired culture; many would slip Mando’a phrases into their speech and embrace the Mando emphasis on kinship and morality. 

However, the one thing that unified almost every clone was their undeniable loyalty to the Republic, for which any would proudly give their lives.

 _The Perseverance_ fell under the command of Marshal Commander Neyo, the highest rank afforded to any clone trooper in the GAR. As a Clone Marshal, he held authority over the entirety of the 91st Reconnaissance Corps. Astrid had seen him, from a distance, on several occasions – he liked to inspect the BARCs often; unsurprising as he was responsible for conjuring the majority of speeder-based tactics. They had never spoken -in fact he had never even glanced in her direction. His armour lacked the usual embellishments of most higher ranking clones, he’d forgone the kilt (sorry _kama_ as Ponds would call it) most commanders or captains would wear and his plastoid was mostly kept white save the sparsely painted circular, crimson markings of his unit. His gait was almost menacing; steps far too calculated and purposeful to display anything other than a man who knew he commanded everyone present in any room – save a Jedi. Astrid had only seen him without his signature, shark-tooth visored helmet once and it was enough to stun her into a state of rigor mortis. His hair was not much different to that of the standard issue cut, but he kept it slightly longer and slicked back rather than straight. His face was, of course, identical to Ponds’ yet, _wrong._ There was no warmth, no joy, no kindness but even more disturbingly – there was no contrasting sadness, anger, hatred. It was empty. The man was completely and utterly emotionless. There was no indication to what he was thinking, it was unnerving. His voice, a rich and well enunciated brogue was almost monotone in his speech. So far, Astrid had only two indications to the Commander’s character: One, that he had a favourite pit-droid – or at least only one would voluntarily offer to assist his BARC modifications. And second, that for some reason or other he had decided to tattoo “CC-8826” in Aruebesh to the space below his left eye in what could only be an act of pride or loyalty to his designation. Astrid had once asked Ponds what to expect of her Marshall Commander and he’d simply given her a look and said:

“He prefers his own space.”

[Break]

_Month 4_

It was on the thirty-fifth day of her second rotation that Astrid’s new life shattered. She’d been clearing her tools from her workbench in the almost deserted hanger; having put in some overtime on one of the more severely damaged speeders. Astrid had subconsciously tuned into a conversation between two troopers; the last to leave the hanger.

It was spoken so quickly, so hushed, Astrid could not even process the words carving their way into her chest until they crawled up her throat, dragging white-hot grief with each syllable: _Hijacked. The Endurance. Hostages. Gunned down. CT-411._

It was if broken glass was suddenly gurgling against her oesophagus.

She sank on devasted knees.

Ponds was dead.

He’d been dead for forty days.


	2. Kriffing Droids

Chapter 2: Kriffing Droids

_Month 4, 21BBY_

CC-8826 liked to pride himself on his composure, he could admit he was completely laconic, even cold and very few people could tell what he really thinking. That was how he preferred it. Neyo was a Marshal Commander, he led by example and it wouldn’t do any good for his men or his superiors if he decided to paint his emotions on his plastoid-clad sleeve.

This evening he could say he was in a good mood - undetectable of course, but true nonetheless – sitting at the desk in his cramped quarters and neatly stacking the last of his reports before getting ready to turn in for the evening.

Only one thing could ruin the sweet sanctity of silent routine and that was WAC-47 deciding to waltz into his room and proceed to talk his ears off. Why exactly he gave the energetic pit droid his access code in the first place, Neyo would never know, but he always found himself regretting it. Don’t get him wrong he liked WAC, truly, an impressive feat on the droid’s part really - but the little shit just never stopped talking sometimes.

Neyo loved his BARC speeder, knew enough to tinker here and there but he was no mechanic and perhaps deciding to fix up a decommissioned old pit droid he found in a random scrap pile was the best example of that. By the time his repairs were done WAC had a few…quirks; he was slightly unbalanced, less than obedient, absent minded and oddly enough comedic. Neyo essentially found himself with less of a working droid and more of pet. This was fine when the shit would just shut up for two minutes.

Blinking slowly and resisting the urge to rub at his temples, Neyo finally swivelled in his seat to face WAC where he stood in the doorway.

“Remind me why you’re here?”

In mock offense WAC jumped back and cocked his faceplate “And they say I have poor hearing, I’ve got a lose screw in my knee plate and it’s bothering me.”

Neyo managed to huff out a deep breath before answering, “And you need me to tighten it?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t do it yourself?”

“No wrench.”

“Hanger?”

“Can’t reach the bench.”

“It can’t wait until morning?”

“Not unless you want me to keep bothering you tonight.”

The sod had him there, with a deep sigh Neyo hauled himself from his seat and proceeded to follow WAC towards the hanger, pausing only to retrieve his bucket and hide his tired eyes from anyone they might encounter.

Hopefully one of the engineers had left some tools out so he could get the job done quickly without having to rummage through any crates first. Walking only slightly behind WAC, Neyo couldn’t help but notice the droid had a giddy bounce in his step, which never meant anything good.

[Break]

The cold durasteel walls of the Venator-class Star Destroyer were seemingly endless to Neyo, still thinking of the extra sleep he should be indulging in for finishing his reports early- only seven minutes earlier than planned but early still. The dependable uniformity of grey metal and equally grey floors was always a comfort though. Metal: solid and cold, the only highlights being the streaks of a fresh clean – reliable. Routine and order was morale, like Kamino there was no warmth in these halls, nor should there be. Why provide false comforts like pictures or padding? Each clone knew he was expendable; they were made to kill and occasionally protect – to make the halls any less than they were would to be to create dreams of a life after the war, outside the GAR: an impossibility. To pretend otherwise would be a cruelty.

Following WAC into one of the several open elevators, Neyo allowed himself the luxury of leaning back against the far wall as the doors slide shut in front of them. He briefly closed his eyes beneath his bucket, trusting the droid not to kark up selecting the right floor. Then again this was WAC he mused, allowing a small smirk. As if he could sense it the droid peered up at him and cocked his head to the side – the droid always knew how to read Neyo where few others could and right now he knew that he was beginning to amuse his commander with his antics.

Neyo had no idea why he let WAC get away with so much, nobody else would try this shit with him – well Bacara might, and occasionally Wolffe. Bacara was the louder version of Neyo, more vocal in his command, less emotionally absent but not much better. There were no doubts when he met Bacara that they would form a friendship. They never discussed it, they knew back in ARC training they were very similar men, with the same view: get it done, doesn’t matter how.

There was no one he would trust more in this galaxy than Bacara and that was that.

Wolffe came later, conversation was easy with Wolffe in that he didn’t force it. What needed to be said was said and if there was time for casual conversation then it wasn’t mindless drivel. Wolffe fit in well with Neyo and Bacara, like them he didn’t see the need in outwardly broadcasting his feelings but whereas Neyo retreated into cold silence and Bacara utilised his temper, Wolffe was pure snark. Sure, his temper rivalled Bacara’s at the best of times but his sarcasm was relentless. He would never be as close as to Wolffe as he was to Bacara but he was still decent company. He was softer than he let on though, he once overheard some shinnies saying how the Wolfpack commander was certainly the nicest of the three – just don’t say it to his face. Neyo was taken by surprise by the answering comment though. _“Surely Neyo’s the nicest right? He’s the only one I’ve never seen shout.”_ Neyo remembered raising an eyebrow at that.

_“No, he’s definitely the scariest – have you ever seen him react to anything? He’s colder than Hoth, you wouldn’t even now you’d pissed him off until it was too late.”_ _Good_ Neyo had thought at that, _fear means respect_. 

Wolffe was getting soft though, only he and Bacara could tell but his general was rubbing off on him. 

The happiest day of Neyo’s short life came only the last time the three were all on leave in Coruscant, he and Bacara had been going over some new BARC schematics in the latter’s quarters when Wolffe had let himself in carrying a bottle of Corellian whiskey.WAC had arrived shortly after, holding a comm link Wolffe had supposedly left in the barracks commons but rather than leave after handing it over, he’d proceeded to stare at Wolffe. Wolffe raised a single scarred eyebrow and glared back, the man really did hate droids.

“I have a question sir,” Wac had said with genuine curiosity.

“Yes?” Was the sharp reply, followed by a swig of the open bottle.

“What does _Buir_ mean? I’ve never heard it before but General Koon seemed awfully amused by you calling him it over the comm channel – did you mean to say it? You seemed embarrassed…”

Anything else said beyond that was lost to the howl of Bacara’s laughter, even Neyo had allowed a shit-eating grin to cover his face as he met Wolffe’s eyes; the silver cybernetic one seeming all the more prominent as his face turned increasingly red. 

An hour later, tactics long abandoned and the bottle almost empty from being passed between the three men, Bacara was still wheezing.

“You actually called your General dad”

“Fuck off”

_Now that was why Neyo loved WAC_

The Commander was interrupted from his reminiscing by the sounding chime of the elevator signalling that they’d arrived in the hanger, now fondly, following WAC to one of the work benches – until he heard it. Muffled sobbing.

Only the emergency lights were on so it took a few scans of his surroundings before Neyo located the source. A dark-haired engineer was slumped against the wall, she was slightly peaking out from behind a work bench and hadn’t noticed them enter the hanger.

_Good._

Clone Marshal Commander 8826 did not deal with crying civies. Just no. It was not part of his job description nor something worth concerning himself with. But, _kriff,_ she sounded so lost and pathetic – exactly, pathetic, not worth his time. Okay that was harsh, but crying women? Really? Not his strong suit. He wasn’t a bad person, he really wasn’t – on the contrary, he liked people to think he’s not a mindless meat-droid either but emotions were not something he’d ever given himself the luxury of expressing. For karks sake, his closest friends were Bacara and Wolffe – he loved his brothers but weakness wasn’t something they’d easily allow the others to see. Wolffe lost the entirety of the fleet under his command in his first few months of action and he wouldn’t even let Bacara place an arm around his shoulders – and, again, he was supposedly the nice one.

_That was the early days though_ , Neyo supposed, _almost two years ago now; a lot has changed._

However, Neyo’s desire to interact with crying girls had not developed like Wolffe’s trust in his brothers.

No, compassion or even outward displays of empathy were not traits Neyo possessed. 

_So you’re just going to do nothing?_

What could he do? Even if he wanted to help he’d make it worse, let’s face it – he was a prick at the best of times. But he had already been here too long, staring at the girl from the shadows, maybe he should go over?

_No sod it, leave._

Yep, better idea – hell he was in a good mood, all he had to do was get out and let someone know he heard a noise in the hanger when he was collecting some tools – that person would find the crying girl and that person could help. Discreetly snatching a wrench from the closest bench, Neyo silently began walking back towards the elevator – he just needed to get WAC to notice him and…

_Shit_

“Hey, what’s got you all cross-wired?” Wac had asked in what he probably though was a comforting way.

Instantly the girls head shot up from its previous occupancy, resting on folded arms atop her knees.

_Shit_

The girls eyes made contact with first the pit-droid then Neyo. The commander could feel his blood turning to ice in his veins as she squinted at his armoured form.

_Retreat! Get out of their soldier! Don’t just stand there!_

“You doing okay?” The droid just did not bloody quit.

_She didn’t answer the first time WAC – why would she answer now?!_

_Wac, kriffing Wac. That little shit always finds trouble._

You could hear a pin drop in the ensuing silence, the girl nodded and slowly stood to her feet. Kriff she was tiny, since when were people allowed to be that short? At six feet exactly Neyo was a comfortable brand of tall like all clones, not giants but tall still. This slight girl was just taking the piss, seriously – she must have be barely over five feet.

She’d stepped further into the light now, stumbling forwards like she didn’t know where her feet were but at least Neyo could see her face now. Kriff, he wished he couldn’t. Her skin was pale, in fact it was a very odd shade – so light it almost appeared grey in parts, but there was pinkness to her cheeks and nose brought on from the crying. Her eyes were a deep brown and heavily obscured by thick black makeup – it might have been neat once, but it was now rather badly smudged by all the tears and the futile attempts to wipe them away. Some of her tears had formed tracks on her skin as they made their way down her face, dragging more of the black liquid with them. She was a mess, franticly swiping her thumbs under her eyes to wipe at the smudges, cringing when she noticed it staining the skin there.

“WAC 47 but call me WAC!” the droid rambled on, gesturing to himself proudly before turning to his creator.

_Oh don’t you dare, you absolute shit-head, you karking no good piece of…_

“And this is Neyo.”

_Fuck_

Neyo panicked, he couldn’t kriffing leave now could he?! What would he do? What the kriff would he do? What would he say – she was looking at him!

_For fuck’s sake do something!_

He nodded. Thank kriff for the bucket.

“Astrid.” was the meek reply, barely audible and accompanied by an awkward smile.

“You could use a caf, fuel for organics – the commander is addicted to it, come on.” Wac didn’t even give the girl time to object already ushering her and Neyo towards the elevator and pushing the buttons for the right floor before leading them towards the mess.

As the twat – droid led Astrid, who was looking like a drowned tooka, through the halls once more Neyo found himself trailing behind. WAC was rambling about anything and everything, occasionally causing the slight girl to giggle, but of course Neyo was able to drown out most of their noise due to the blinding hot rage that could only seem to form one word in his head as he glared blaster holes into the back of WACs head.

_Bastard._

_Bastard._

_Kriffing bastard._

Alright, that was two words, but that droid had a way of turning his normally stoic commander positively livid with minimal effort. It would be impressive to witness but as Neyo rarely portrayed anything other than stony indifference, authentication would be impossible.

[Break]

Before he knew it their little group was making their way into the mess, the girl – Astrid, and WAC had seated themselves at a table and bench while Neyo stormed straight to the caf machine. He punched in the buttons for two, black, before snatching a stirrer and a handful of sugars and milk. He deposited these and one of the cafs in front of Astrid roughly before taking the seat opposite.

“It’s decaf.” He hadn’t said it with any malice but she jumped all the same.

“Thanks” softly spoken again, but clearer than when she’d mumbled her name.

Neyo all but ripped his helmet off so he could drink his caf and couldn’t help but frown at the amount of artificial milk and sugar Astrid was stirring into hers. At least she was quiet company.

“Sooo….” WAC began.

_Aw fuck off_

“You going to tell us what caused that?” The droid finished.

Astrid looked at Neyo, though quickly away again when he met her eyes, and WAC before nodding.

”I know, it’s not my place – I…I’m sorry but I just found out about happened to _The Endurance_ and P…Ponds.” Her voice cracked at the late Commander’s name but she continued “he was always so kind and I didn’t know him long, so I’m sorry because you have more of a right to be upset than me, but he didn’t deserve to die like that.”

Ponds.

That was almost a month ago – how did she not know until now? Oh, why would they tell civies about losses? She’d probably overheard it – never supposed to know at all. Realistically, this was cause for a briefing on careless talk.

Neyo hadn’t spent much time with Ponds, same Corps, different strand. But from what he did know, Ponds was adored everywhere he went – his kindness and resolve unmatched. As Marshall Commander, Neyo had to sign the report on his death and it…wasn’t an easy read. No, he did not deserve to die like that, but death was something each and every clone was expected to face one day.

“It’s a war, people die.” Neyo deadpanned.

_Ponds was one of our best._

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t mourn them surely?” Astrid looked horrified at his words.

“We’re clones, who would mourn us?” Neyo inwardly cringed at how uncaring he sounded, even to him but the girl had to learn now – don’t get attached to the clones.

_His men would appreciate how much you cared about him._

“You’re all still men.”

“Maybe, but there’s an entire Galactic Republic out there who don’t see it that way and even if it did, acting hysterical won’t bring him back.”

That seemed to stop her, Neyo watched recognition cross her features – she gave him a sad look but at least it wasn’t pity – then he’d have been angry. Now he felt almost guilty watching her sip her caf.

“I respected Ponds, he didn’t deserve what he got. But we’re in a war and we’re expected to die, if we stop and crumble at every lost soldier then the Seppies win.”

_Grief isn’t a luxury clones can afford._

Neyo hoped to the high stars she wouldn’t expect him to elaborate because that was probably the most he’d spoken to someone other than his vod or general in, well, ever. Why he felt compelled to explain himself he didn’t know, he must be more tired than he thought.

“You’re right, I didn’t mean to imply you don’t care…sorry.” Now she looked guilty.

Neyo just nodded and finished his caf in silence while WAC proceeded to cheer Astrid up with ridiculous jokes and a story about how he once annoyed General Gallia so much she actually force pushed him off of Neyo’s BARC speeder. Astrid didn’t believe him of course but her face lit up at the retelling regardless, Neyo even allowed himself a small smile behind the rim of his cup. 

[Break]

Several hours and two cups of decaffeinated caf later, Neyo was making his way towards his quarters, WAC happily trotting besides him – claiming Neyo’s room was closer and he’d rather power down there than make his way back to the cargo hold where he normally stored himself.

“I may as well walk you to the hanger and fix that knee plate before turning in, buddy.” Neyo had offered before turning past the lift.

“Knee plate?” Genuine confusion.

“You said you had a screw loose.” Neyo provided.

“I did?” WAC sounded smug now for some reason.

“Yes.” Neyo was getting impatient with the droids games, always up to something.

“Well I just needed you in the hanger sir.”

“Why lie to get me in the han…you knew Astrid was there already didn’t you?” Neyo was positively livid now.

“Yes.” That shit sounded so proud of himself.

“Bastard.” Was all Neyo offered before continuing his way towards his bunk, WAC cackling behind him.


	3. The Short Straw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Just wanted to make a really quick point of saying that I’m trying my best to stick with a nice mix of Legends and Cannon - especially where chronology is concerned but I am taking poetic liberties as well. For example I’m giving Neyo more direct involvement in events from the series cause he deserves some more attention (Mr Filoni, I’m looking at you). Also, you may notice when I finish chapter 4 that I’ve made Echo and Fives ARCs a few months earlier than originally as well - and obviously I’ve shoved quite a few OCs in this.

Chapter 3: The Short Straw

_Month 4, 21 BBY_

Despite the previous evenings antics, this morning had started just like any other. Neyo woke up at o-five-hundred and donned yesterday’s blacks. He made his way to the training room and practiced circuits. At o-six-forty-five he returned to his own quarter’s, spent a total of three minutes in the ‘fresher, dressed in fresh blacks and deposited the old set into his wash-pile. He combed and slicked his hair, he armoured up and by o-seven-hundred he was making his way to the mess hall.

Everything was practiced, concise and executed with precision. There were no anomalies in Neyo’s routine – mostly.

WAC had been promptly kicked back to the cargo hold as punishment for last night’s excursion, not that the droid minded – to be honest if he’d protested Neyo might have gave in and let him stay, he really did let the little shit get away with far too much. Still, he must have known just how tired his commander was because he hadn’t decided to meet Neyo in the hall this morning and skip around his heels as he was sometimes inclined to do.

As he marched through winding corridors, the security of Neyo’s omnipresent bucket allowed him to smile softly as he thought of his relationship with the tiny pest. A constant companion, WAC wore his metaphorical heart on his sleeve, it was endearing really but Neyo often found himself in a state of internal conflict around the droid. On one hand he felt at ease, as though he could relax and truly be himself when just the two of them are together. On the other, he was always apprehensive as to how long the little guy would stay charming before he started causing disruption. It was complicated.

[Break]

Striding into the mess, his men echoing a chorus of greeting as he passed, Neyo swiftly grabbed his morning rations and situated himself opposite his Captain, Chaos. Chaos had been named by Neyo because he was. Literally. Prior to his promotion he’d served with the Sky Corps and it was obvious to anyone that he idolised Marshal Commander Cody - he was as disciplined as any clone but he tended to get overly excited in battles; literally launching himself at the enemy, punching droids instead of blasting them and once Neyo had watched him ride a _rolly_. Pure chaos.

Bacara thought he was perfect. In fact, Bacara would offer to recruit Chaos into the Nova Corps every opportunity he got but was always met with polite refusal. Chaos, despite being the antithesis to Neyo’s sanity, is loyal to a fault.

Now helmetless, Neyo had been updating Chaos on the week’s schedule when he felt a presence in his peripheral vison. He didn’t even have to raise his eyes to meet the stupidly stunted woman in an engineer’s jumpsuit, she was nervously clutching a datapad and looking between him and Chaos. The Captain questioned her teasingly, easily picking up on her discomfort and Neyo almost did a double-take when he realised it was the same girl from last night. She looked more… _presentable_ now. Good, no more hysterics. 

Astrid, that was it. Astrid had apparently been sent to get approval on the new stock requisitions from her line manager – always needing a signature from a military rank of Commander.

“Sooo they sent the newbie to old grumpy over here, don’t worry he can only smell fear during a full moon.” Chaos jested before taking the tablet off her and handing it to Neyo.

“ _Di’kut_ ” was all Neyo offered in response as he began scrolling through and amending pages of mechanical stock, adding his designation number where necessary.

“Seriously though, don’t let them make you do all the menial work just because you’re new.” Chaos advised.

“No actually, I ended up here fair and square” was her meek reply, accompanied by an infuriatingly sheepish smile.

_Oh for fucks sake. Great. She probably thinks we’re friends now. She must have offered._

This was why Neyo only dealt with people when he had to. He’d given her a tiny bit of comfort last night, sat with her for a few hours while she stupidly wept from those smudged eyes and now here she was; volunteering to spend time with him and naively assuming they had an understanding. He’d have to deal with this but not here, later, he’d pull her aside and tell her under no certain circumstances was he to be sought out – he’d….

“Fair and square?” Chaos pried with a sly grin now.

Now she looked embarrassed, looking to the side, to Neyo as if to confirm his suspicions, then back at Chaos.

“We drew straws, shortest straw has to speak to you Sir.” She answered, fully turned to Neyo now.

Well. _That_ was something he did not know.

At least his assumptions were false but – ouch? No, they were scared of him, Good.

Chaos was loving this though, unable to quell his laughter and soon had Astrid smiling again.

Neyo, against his better judgement, found himself looking at Astrid more fully now. Her smile was nauseatingly enthralling – all teeth and white sunbeams. Her face, clear of the horrendous black slap from last night and painted properly was…she looked…

_Mesh’la_

He must have been staring because she turned from Chaos to cock her head at him in confusion, “is something wrong Sir?”

“You look different without all that shit on your face” he uttered, handing back the now signed datapad.

_Bravo Neyo, bravo – all you had to say was “no”._

Chaos looked mortified but it wasn’t in Neyo’s nature to voice anything other than the bluntest of truths when questioned – and he certainly wasn’t about to tell her she looked pretty. At the very least he supposed if he offended her, he could be further reassured she wouldn’t try to latch onto him.

“Oh” was her shocked reaction, taking back the datapad and thanking him. She’d turned back to Chaos, let him know how lovely it had been meeting him and made to leave before quickly spinning back on her heels and facing Neyo once more.

“Thanks for last night by the way. It - won’t happen again” Neyo acknowledged her promise with a stern nod and watched her hurriedly make her exit.

He was still watching the door when Chaos began demanding his attention by shoving his face into his vision, “chances of you telling me what that was about Sir?” he tested with a raised brow.

“Nothing.”

_It was nothing._

[Break]

_Month Six_

He couldn’t escape from her. He tried, he really kriffing tried but it’s not as though he could avoid the hanger during the day; his normal shifts mostly consisted of developing schematics and new tactical measures with the occasional need for deck supervision and briefings with his General. He quite enjoyed the former part of each day but he couldn’t make a very good job of charting BARC developments without inspecting them regularly. He’d just have to get used to her.

Neyo couldn’t place why he found her presence so irritating, she hadn’t spoken to him since that morning in the mess – if she ever looked up from her work and noticed him, she’d quickly look away. The fact of the matter was, through no fault of her own, she bothered him just by existing.

It wasn’t her voice, though the soft giggle she emitted when joking with her colleagues would cause him to clench his teeth in an effort not to look over. It wasn’t the way she tripped over thin air while walking or even that she had a habit of almost dropping everything she touched. It _was_ that he’d seen her vulnerable and when she had no one to turn to he’d been there, unwillingly yes but he’d become a source of comfort in that moment and – and it made him feel…itchy. Thinking logically, he was being unnecessarily paranoid; she hadn’t mentioned the incident further and neither had he but what else could be causing his unease? That had to be it.

Nevertheless, no matter how painstakingly Neyo was able to avoid her, WAC would seek out Astrid as often as possible, gouging much more information out of her than he could possibly fit into that rusty head of his. The diminutive shit was enamoured with her and wanted to know every trivial detail of her inconsequential life. What was worse is that the bastard liked to ferry every bit of intel he gained straight back to Neyo: that she missed Naboo, her mixed-race heritage, the fact her mother was her best friend, that she and her roommate liked to watch cheesy holovid dramas in their downtime, that when she next rotated the same roommate had insisted she join her and her wife for dinner, her love of snow of all things. The list was endless and it was so unbelievably insignificant to Neyo that he thought he might tear his hair out. Which is why he’d prepared himself for the worst today as he went to program some new maps into the nav on his speeder.

Bucket tucked under one arm, scowl barely concealed, Neyo rounded the corner to the engineering station and – she wasn’t there.

WAC trotted over with Neyo’s tools and said that Astrid had been rotated for her next stint of leave that morning so the “lucky” Commander had WACs “wonderful company” all to himself. Neyo should have been relieved but he felt, dejected? No. It was just the adrenalin he’d amassed from the fear of having to deal with her again leaving his body. That was all. 

[Break]

The upgrades to the nav had taken longer to install than anticipated so Neyo found he had only a spare few moments to engage in some back and forth banter with WAC before he was packing up his tools and making his way to a briefing. He’d arrived in the war room promptly regardless and took his place at the holo-table besides General Adi Gallia with a respectful greeting. The Tholothian was easy to work with – she wasn’t unlike Neyo in her strategics; preferring a level-headed approach and had the same disdain for ostentatiousness in combat that he did. Gallia genuinely cared for her troops too and Neyo was grateful for the value she attached to the lives of his men, he was sceptical of most Jedi – far too whimsical in their reliance on superstition to guide them but Gallia had proven herself capable time and time again.

The briefing went as well as could be expected where Jedi were concerned, the general public liked to view Jedi as reserved warrior-monks; tranquil in their serenity and desire for peace. In reality they were like an unconventional, ever-bickering family. Tuning into the comm channel Neyo and Gallia were met by the flickering holograms of Jedi Generals Koth, Kenobi, Windu and Mundi alongside their respective commanders – Captain Rex was also present, growing increasingly perturbed at his lack of General. 

Good start.

Fifteen minutes later, Rex was in the midst of apologising profusely to the bulging vein in Windu’s temple when Skywalker finally waltzed up alongside him, looking entirely unapologetic as he conjured an excuse involving his young Padawan. Windu simply fixed a glare before opening the brief; begrudgingly congratulating Skywalkers joint success with General Unduli to destroy the separatist droid factory on Geonosis, and their consequential capture of Archduke Poggle. At this point Kenobi had politely interjected on behalf of his Commander; Cody made a request that he and Rex be allowed to formulate an investigation into the rumours that Poggle may have been in the midst of developing a “super-weapon” of sorts.

And then it began.

General Mundi was quick to object, claiming that it would be nothing but a colossal waste of time to launch a full scale investigation into mere rumours, Kenobi began to respectfully disagree but was soon interrupted by Skywalker’s tactless accusation that Mundi was being overly cynical.

Cody cringed. Rex turned pale. Bacara exhaled. Neyo blinked. Captain Lock looked ready to cry.

The next thirteen standard minutes saw the five clones present flit glances at each other in a mutual state of embarrassment and distress, while simultaneously willing their respective Generals to put an end to the ceaseless hurling of sarcasm and slights - poorly veiled as constructive criticism. Thank the maker Bly wasn’t here Neyo had thought to himself, _he_ actually would cry if Secura was in the middle of this; the Commander of the 327th was so protective of his General that it remained a mystery to Neyo how they managed to partake in any fighting at all. 

Neyo did not care to remember who eventually ended the “discussion,” but when it was finally shut down under the agreement that Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard be tasked with the investigation, he was grateful all the same. Swiftly moving onto the next stage of the agenda, Windu announced that due to new GAR procedure; the use of prototype equipment would need to cease immediately in order for accuracy and uniformity to maintained within the Sky Corps.

Kenobi raised a brow. Skywalker opened his mouth.

_Fuck._

[Break]

Neyo had been forcefully rubbing his temples, with two fingers against each side of his head, since returning to his quarters three minutes ago. He was sure if he tried hard enough he could reach inside his skull and rip out any trace of the past hour and just as he was internally debating the logistics of doing this, his comm beeped. Bacara:

[CC-1138 is active]

[CC-1138]: Fuck me.

[CC-8826]: Not tonight darling I have a headache.

[CC-1138]: Hilarious.

[CC-1138]: Seriously though, what the kark was that?

[CC-8826]: I thought it went rather well.

[CC-1138]: Just because I’m the only person in the galaxy who gets to see your sense of humour doesn’t mean I enjoy it.

[CC-8826]: ?

[CC-1138]: Fine.

[CC-1138]: I’ll admit this only because I haven’t seen you in seven months; you’re not bad.

[CC-8826]: Thanks _tat._ You’re less not bad.

[CC-1138]:

[CC-8826]: How long do you think before that vein on Windu’s head finally ruptures?

[CC-1138]: Can’t be long now, I swear the things actually started to tick by the second.

[CC-8826]: My money is on the Chancellor being the one that finally does it, Fox says he summoned Windu to the Senate four times last week.

[CC-1138]: Unless Fox cracks first, his blood must be 90% caf by this point.

[CC-8826]: And now he gets Cody’s pet project.

[CC-1138]: Don’t remind me.

[CC-8826]: How was Mr Cynical after the brief then?

[CC-1138]: He’s still bitching to Windu, they stayed on the link.

[CC-8826]: Nice.

[CC-1138]: Gallia?

[CC-8826]: “Meditating.”

[CC-1138]: Breaking stuff?

[CC-8826]: Yes.

[CC-8826]: That being said, I do plan on bashing my head against the wall for a few hours before I give the boys the shortened version. Speak soon?

[CC-1138]: Ha, I might try that.

[CC-1138]: Course. Comm before you’re next due to check in at Coruscant, might get lucky and see you there.

[CC-8826]: Will do, I’ll be the one in plastoid.

[CC-1138]: Go fuck yourself Neyo.

[Break]

She was back.

She, oh Jango preserve him, she’d brought kriffing cookies this time. Seriously – how the ever-lasting-karking hell was he supposed to maintain discipline and procedure when half of the shinnies had a sugar-rush? 

He had to spend a good chunk of his day watching his men, _his_ men sheepishly taking their pick from her home-baked goods and perhaps even more disrespectfully; going for seconds. Okay fine, they weren’t strictly doing anything wrong and most of them would take one, thank her and get back to work and only a few lingered for chit-chat but urgh - it bothered him. Before Neyo knew it he was storming over, noting his troopers scatter as he did so, and asking her what the actual kriff she thought she was doing.

She looked like a startled porg in the light of his controlled anger, quickly blabbering apologies “Oh, force I’m sorry, I didn’t even think. I had no idea it was against regulation – I’ll get rid…”

“It’s not” he interrupted, ultimately coming to the conclusion that he was fabricating an excuse to talk to – _no_ , to reprimand her.

She gave him a victorious smile at that, realising his admonishment was unjustified. “Would you like one Sir?” She was holding out the tin to him now, coquettish smirk turned feral.

Sceptically, he took one of the smaller ones from the centre of the tin. It was crumbly and the sediments stuck to the rough fabric of his gloves so he thought it best to shove the whole thing into his mouth and be done with it.

_Fuck me that’s sweet._

Neyo did not do sweet. They didn’t really have treats on Kamino and if there was ever a dessert it was always fruits or some sort of paste, occasionally his ration pack would include a high fibre cracker but that was it. This was clinging to every taste-bud in his mouth and coating his teeth – he felt as though they would rot from all the sugar but he hid his grimace anyway; an unexpected act of kindness on his part.

“You can finish the rest if you want” she offered, he wanted to tear that stomach-churning sun-beam from her mouth and stamp on it.

_Fuck no._

“No. Thank you.” He declined against the unanticipated protests of his newly awakened taste-buds. Shit, now he might like sweets. Kriffing great. She simply smiled again without offense and tidied the damn things away with a promise that the offer still stood, as long as there were more. Luckily the tin was mostly empty now and from what he’d seen, the huge Devaronian she worked with would soon deplete the remaining supply anyway. Twat.

Neyo, realising that he had nothing else to say, promptly excused himself and resumed his work. He noted with a twinge of, well he didn’t know what, regret? That he hadn’t been quite ready for the conversation to end, gazing back over to Astrid, he could see her now immersed in her labour – smile absent to make way for concentration. He missed it.

No. He _still_ found it annoying.

Later, much later when her shift had apparently ended, Astrid had approached him and gently wished Neyo a “goodnight Commander.”

“Night” he echoed to her already retreating back.

_Shit._


	4. Grievous Intrigue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably should have mentioned sooner but I’m using the Galactic Standard Calendar for this fic. According to Wookieepedia: one year is 10 months, one month is 35 days, one week is 5 days.

Chapter 4: Grievous Intrigue

_Month 6, 21BBY_

Astrid hadn’t attempted to pursue conversation any further since he’d almost confiscated her baked commodities thirty-five days ago – not that he was counting. However, she did greet him with a chirpy “hello Commander” when they passed in halls or when he found himself in the engineering station, and she always made an effort to wish him a “goodnight Sir” when she was clocking off.

Neyo tended to be in the hanger much later in the day due to his ever expanding schedule and so it was only on these shifts that he had a chance to see her, really see her. He was starting to notice small things; the piercings in her ears, the way she would rub her hands after working on a particularly stubborn machine for too long, that she had a small line drawing tattooed on the inside of her wrist, the way her work-belt pinched her waist, causing the shapeless jumpsuit to crease and sag around it. He would reassure himself that this was normal; it’s someone relatively new and he’s trained to be observant – that’s all. But he couldn’t explain his desire to take her tiny, sore hands into his own and rub them for her.

Once she had been working late, well past the end of her shift, and just like the first night they met, himself, WAC and her were the only beings present. She was on her way to the caf machine and offered to bring him one back. He said yes. Two weeks later, same predicament and he’d offered her a caf this time. And just like that, they had a third dialogue option for each other.

Astrid still didn’t try and press him for small talk on those evenings thankfully, either she’d been warned or had come to realise herself that Neyo wouldn’t offer conversation willingly. Yet, Neyo found himself enjoying her quiet company; she wasn’t the most delicate though and more often than he thought possible he found himself staring at her in concealed, but amused vexation as she dropped something onto the cold floor. She’d stare at the offending item with malice, smile sheepishly at Neyo by way of apology and resume the task at hand. He’d simply look scornfully at her and force himself to believe that it did in fact piss him off.

It never did.

Neyo had found himself subconsciously looking forward to these interactions now, her presence was certainly felt but her ability to keep from uttering a single word was comforting in a way he did not realise he needed. Actually, she talked constantly, but not to him, WAC was there obviously and the little shit was keen to spawn conversation like it powered his circuits. Hearing Astrid patiently engage with his droid didn’t bother Neyo as much as he thought it would – for a start it stopped the sod solely relying on him for attention but sometimes Neyo wished he could formulate the words to join them. Hearing her answering WACs questions about her home and speaking with such affection and longing, he wanted to probe her more – ask about her life there. He couldn’t though. It wouldn’t be appropriate. 

Today he found himself heading to the hold before he made his way to the hanger, WAC hadn’t met him outside his door this morning and he seemed oddly lethargic yesterday; so Neyo felt the need to check on him. Moving into the dry, tepid air of the hold, Neyo soon spotted WAC tucked away in his usual “sleeping” spot. He was still tightly compacted and Neyo moved to activate him.

Nothing.

With more force, Neyo tapped the droid’s nose once more.

Nothing still.

This went on for five minutes. He tried everything, shaking the poor bugger, holding him upside down – nothing was happening and now Neyo was panicking. He checked his wires and nothing was out of place. Without any other option he yanked the little guy from the floor and almost sprinted to the hanger with WAC cradled protectively against his chest.

[Break]

To say Astrid looked shocked when Neyo positioned WAC’s folded little body onto her bench would be an understatement. His helmeted face betrayed nothing, even as he tore the heavy bucket off to run his fingers through his hair, but his voice was wrapped in complete agony as he simply said “he won’t power up.”

Wordlessly she began to examine every inch of the shit, and Neyo thanked his lucky _shebs_ that this had happened early enough that she was the only person to see him pace back and forth. Finally, she opened up his chest compartment – unclipped the wires and lightly blew on the connectors before reattaching them and snapping it shut once more. Tapping WAC on the nose, all three suns of Tatooine seemed to light her face as he sprang up with a loud “good morning!”

Neyo was stunned.

“Dust on the wires. Nothing serious.” She provided reassuringly.

“That’s it?” Neyo could feel his face heat up.

“Yep, though he does need to make sure he cleans himself more often – it’s not good for the connectors.” As she spoke she was fixing WAC with a stern look but the shit in question was completely oblivious and looking quite happy with himself.

_Bastard._

[Break]

Things had been different since the incident with WAC. To his relief, Astrid had the sense not to verbally note his embarrassment over the whole situation but, she did fail to hide the bemused look she threw his way when he began angrily lecturing WAC about the importance of maintaining his own kriffing body. It was the most she’d ever heard him speak and probably the only time she’d heard his tone hint towards anything over than cold indifference. WAC for his part had loved every second of the extra attention, and chortled in that stupid voice – the one that somehow always sounded like he was fighting a cold - despite being a kriffing droid!

In rescuing WAC, Astrid had finally stopped being the shy girl he was forced to sit with some months ago, for a start they were even now; he had comforted her and she had fixed his pet. Without even trying she’d somehow managed to gradually chip at the cracks in his outer defences and burrow her way in – the barricades were still up obviously, and was it going to take a hell of a lot more work to bring them crashing down; he vowed she never would but she’d made more progress than anyone had since his cadet days. He was powerless.

Over the next few months she grew bolder, and before he knew it their late night shifts in the hanger were accompanied by the softest of conversations. Well, if they could be called conversations; really WAC would speak to both of them at once and they’d both answer – they weren’t exactly speaking to each other but they were part of the same exchange, and when they each responded to WAC they found their eyes meeting for fleeting seconds.

The inevitable ultimately took place on Astrid’s last shift before rotation, she’d finished describing hot summers in Theed when she had sighed and spoke a single word in his direction; “Commander?”

He gave no indication that he’d heard her other than stopping his current movements, he had his back to her and had been downloading some proposed schematics Bacara sent earlier that day.

“Can you tell me about Kamino?”

“Cold and wet.”

What else was there to say? He hated the place, constant scrutiny at the hands of the longnecks, endless drills and pointless history lessons. Yet, he’d been “born” there, it was home really. He’d become best-friends with Bacara there, completed his ARC training…

“All the time?” She probed further.

He had lifted his head to look over his shoulder at that, hearing the amusement in her voice – clearly she was used to his gruffness.

“Yes.”

“Was the rain loud? Did it thunder?”

Seriously? That’s what she was asking? He answered with the affirmative again but turned around fully to lean against his desk and fold his arms, giving her a questioning look.

“I just like rain. And snow. And ice.” She excitedly gasped at her own train of thought before asking yearningly “did it ever snow or hail?”

He gave the smallest, most minuscule quirk of his lips that he could muster but she glowed with the significant victory nonetheless. Shaking his head, Neyo simply stated “it’s a shit-hole.”

She laughed at that, and his wry smile hadn’t faded as he’d promised that if they ever found themselves there she’d see for herself just how terrible it was.

It was another turning point that conversation, for the most part they would quite happily continue to work in silence but they found themselves in short discussions from time to time. Never in front of anyone though, always when they were alone. It was always mundane, light topics – just facets of her life that she felt were worth sharing – mostly stories from her time at university. One evening, she had been working on the repulsorlift for his BARC and he couldn’t resist. She was gradually replacing some of the components and fixing them in place with a series of bolts that had come to be known as “mushrooms” due to their shape.

“You need to be careful” he had uttered, trying not to let his gaze linger on the way her jumpsuit pulled at her behind as she crouched in front of him, still securing the bolts in place.

“Why?”

“There’s not mushroom left on that panel.”

His voice gave no indication of the joke, it was shit, abysmal but the seriousness in which he delivered it had her perplexed expression breaking into fits of hilarity almost immediately. His countenance remained static, no trace of humour at all and it just made her laugh harder.

Later, he had lain in his bunk and prayed that he’d hear her laugh again soon.

[Break]

_Month 10_

It wasn’t often that the 91st Reconnaissance Corps were involved in any large scale action. Most of Neyo’s opportunities to partake in any fighting were just small occurrences when gathering intel or, if he was lucky, he’d be able to take a small squad into a covert operation. This was why when Neyo heard he and Gallia had been tasked with liberating General Koth from Grievous’ hold, he found himself in a state of exultant anticipation. That excitement soon diminished however when Gallia stormily informed him they’d be joined by Kenobi…and Skywalker. He was positively furious though, when he learnt that Koth was being held above Saleucami; his intelligence had reported no know Separatist activity there and while inaccuracy could always be expected in war, Neyo was a perfectionist and mistakes such as these were not ones he acknowledged lightly.

The rest of his troops wouldn’t be joining them, he and Gallia with Rex and Skywalker were to infiltrate Grievous’ flagship while Kenobi and Cody distracted the miscreation in question. And so, Neyo found himself resisting the urge to “back-seat pilot” as he swayed with the motions of Anakin Skywalker’s shuttle. Sitting behind Skywalker and his Captain, Neyo was praising every god he could name for sparing him the company of the rest of Rex’s troops. The 501st, he knew from experience as well as reputation, were _insane_. He didn’t know what was worse, the fact that their most experienced medic liked to prance around like a gazelle in heat, that their two best ARC troopers acted like misbehaving children; the goateed one by far the worst, there was Jesse – aptly named because the man literally was a jester. And then there was Hardcase. Neyo had to suppress a shudder thinking of the overactive trooper – something had to have gone wrong in production there. To be fair to Rex, they aren’t bad soldiers and their success rate was enviable but they’re unorganised, unpredictable. It was Skywalker’s influence really, Rex tended to be by the book – he was a model leader and how his General or men hadn’t caused him to burst a blood vessel yet remained a mystery.

Rex worked well with Cody, the two had become fast companions in ARC training with the orange-painted Marshal Commander taking the “young” Captain under his wing. Rex was part of the same batch as all of them of course, but being the sole Captain in a group of Commanders – they couldn’t help but think of him as the baby. Cody took his “big-brother duties” seriously and he and Rex were paired together more often than any other two clones; it was obvious Cody was making a protégé of his _vod._ Cody was easy to get along with, he is chattier than Neyo would like but the lessons in charisma he’d absorbed from Kenobi made it bearable. He is as professional and skilled as befitting of any Marshal Commander but he seemed unafraid of more unorthodox methods when necessary. Neyo liked Cody, but he’d never forgive him for unloading Captain Chaos onto him.

Now hanging upside down, shuttle discreetly tucked to the underside of Grievous’ flagship, Neyo prepared himself for the worst of Skywalker’s strategy and silently agreed with Gallia’s jibes at his landing skills.

[Break]

The mission was a bust, yes they were successful but Neyo missed all the action. He just stood with Rex by the vent Skywalker had carved through and waited for their rescued hostage. Sure, they were keeping watch – an important role but Neyo had been hyping himself up to finally shoot at something, not loiter in a dimly lit hallway. While his General was engaging Grievous, Neyo and Rex had waited to be picked up like a pair of desperate Twi’leks at _79s._

Oddly enough he did go to _79s_ that evening. They were on route to return the freshly emancipated Koth to the Jedi medical facility on Coruscant when Neyo had kept his promise of contacting Bacara. The Marine had commed him back almost instantly and, for the first time in too long, the brothers were enjoying a brief stint of leave together. There were few leisure options available for clones, there was sitting in the barracks playing sabacc or _79s._ Now, if anyone were to ask Neyo what he thought of the dingey bar, he’d probably oblige them with an un-characteristically long rant about the sticky floors, hazy smoke filled air and debauched behaviour that _his_ men wouldn’t dare partake in, yet – it was the only place that outwardly welcomed clones.

Hence, it was after submitting his mission report that Neyo found himself situated within a booth of the infamous bar with Rex, Bacara and for some reason Fox. It wasn’t much of a secret that Fox was _disliked_ by most clone units – Bly tended to complain that he had the easiest job; baby-sitting senators whilst Bacara would add that his troopers were lazy; in that they had little to do besides deal with civilian disputes. Adversely, as he listened to Fox painfully describe how he’d spent most of the afternoon assisting a pampered senatorial aid search for their lost child, only to find out the kid in question had been taken home by his nanny, Neyo almost pitied him. Now looking at Fox’s exhausted bloodshot eyes, Neyo counted himself lucky.

Neyo had been examining the sticky glass stains on their table with repugnance when Cody strolled up to their booth with a tray of whiskey in hand – a small gesture for having arrived an hour later than planned.

“Time you call this _Kote_?” Bacara huffed, accepting his drink and raising it slightly in thanks.

“Well some of us have more to put in our reports than those two slackers over there” Cody teased good naturedly, gesturing towards Rex and Neyo, “but in fairness they did a wonderful job of looking pretty while my men did all the hard work” he finished with a wink.

Neyo had bristled internally while Fox and Bacara cackled. Rex shook his head but grinned before chipping in “I still refuse to believe you dog-piled Grievous.”

“It happened.”

“Then how did he get away?” Fox quipped, sly as his namesake while Cody just offered him a two finger salute in response.

“I don’t know how he still has his rank, all he seems to do is run” was Neyo’s only input.

“He doesn’t run…he _scuttles_ ” Cody spoke while visibly shuddering.

“Did yous hear about Wolffey-boy?” Bacara asked, abnormally gleeful as he changed the subject. On receiving only a chorus of blank stares, Bacara’s grin turned savage as he finally elaborated, “Biter’s been waylaid from the fighting on a relief mission.”

“Poor sod won’t be liking that” Cody uttered through smirking lips.

Maybe the resulting mock-toast to Wolffe and his pack was unnecessary but the image of the cantankerous Commander being told he was to be removed from the fighting, just to pitch tents and distribute rations was irresistibly hilarious


	5. Nomad Droids

Chapter 5: Nomad Droids

_Month 1, 20 BBY_

He knew laughing at Wolffe would come back to bite him on the _shebs_ but Neyo certainly hadn’t anticipated karma to strike so soon and definitely not with such ferocity.

Neyo had been partaking in the last step of his morning routine, scowling into his breakfast rations, when his commlink beeped with a message from Wolffe:

[CC-3636]: General Plo has informed General Gallia that we will be at the rendezvous for approximately 08:00.

[CC-8826]: Received.

[CC-8826]: How was volunteering with the boy-scouts?

[CC-3636]: I was close to ripping out my good eye.

[CC-3636 is typing]

[CC-3636 is typing]

[CC-8826]: That bad?

[CC-3636 is typing]

[CC-3636]: Starts off fine. Better than fine, perfectly on schedule with the unloading – more than enough supplies. Step off the ship and the kriffing chief, elder, king or whatever comes trotting over – not a word of basic.

[CC-3636]: Translator droid finally turns up. Fett’s hairy balls, I would have been better off just miming to the guy. The droids just spitting out all this nonsense from the King: “we can’t eat in public”, “the ground is at war”, “fix the ground” – oh, but only after he insisted on karking hugging all of us! Hugs! Seriously! In a disaster zone!

[CC-8826]: So only your dad is allowed hugs then?

[CC-3636]: Fuck you

[CC-3636]: I was trying to be nice to the protocol droid (who did not shut up by the way), I really was but he kept insisting that I actually do what the King is saying – how does he expect me to stop an earthquake?! Then he fucks off for almost the entire day – nowhere to be seen!

[CC-3636]: I’m stuck with the locals with no way in hell of understanding what they’re saying but rather than accept that we can’t communicate they just get louder and flail faster – as if that helps!

[CC-3636]: Only when we’re ready to depart does the shiny prick finally come back – ranting and raving about some “amazing adventure” he’s been on.

[CC-8826]: _He_ was the one ranting and raving?

[CC-3636]: If I ever have a heart attack, I’m blaming that droid – he is stress incarnate.

[CC-3636]: I have a present for you by the way…

[CC-8826]: You fucking dare.

[CC-3636 is inactive]

_Bastard_

[Break]

What Neyo did not expect when he clasped arms with Wolffe in greeting an hour later, was for the Commander of the 104th to grin like a vulture clutching his prey as he unloaded two droids into his possession.

“My gift _Sir_.” Was all Wolffe offered, before briskly excusing himself; the absence of his hulking form revealing two droids – one being a protocol droid plated in gold, the other a blue and white astromech. The former of the two was already animatedly making his way towards him with stiff but somehow flailing limbs. 

“Marshal Commander Neyo! A pleasure to meet you sir! I, am C3P0; human cyborg relations.” Neyo found himself blinking in disbelief behind his helmet as the abominable protocol droid prattled on in an overly pretentious voice, the astromech squeaking every so often in protest. “We have been on quite the adventure, solving ancient riddles, restoring peace between divided worlds – why, it’s been marvellously horrid; sounds a bit oxymoronic I know – me a protocol droid failing to use basic standard. But true nonetheless…”

Neyo couldn’t keep up, the droid was speaking so fast, so excitedly that he couldn’t focus on a single word. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t drown out the incoherent meanderings of his ramblings. Obviously, Wolffe had given him an implied warning when they spoke earlier – but Neyo had honestly believed he was joking. As it turns out, the shitting droids belonged to Senator Amidala and the 91st were expected to escort them to Coruscant.

_Fucking great._

[Break]

Not soon enough, Neyo found himself standing on the observation deck, armoured hands clasped behind his back and glaring holes into space itself as he anticipated finally returning the yapping droid to Coruscant.

Then he felt it. 

The whole cruiser took one gigantic lurch starboard in a sea of firing cannons, hauling himself up – his feet having been uprooted – Neyo recognised the tell-tale sign of incoming hostilities on the scanner. Things, as they often did in Neyo’s experience, escalated lightning-fast from there. He swiftly sprang into action, barking at his navigators to begin evasive manoeuvres, for his gunners to ready their fire, for his troopers to prepare themselves for boarding. They were seriously caught off guard here and Neyo had to act without hesitation if they had any chance of escaping from this.

All too soon, Gallia was storming the bridge announcing that the main reactor had already been breached. Defeatedly, Neyo registered the order for all non-essential personnel to evacuate. 

Non-essential personnel, that was maintenance, catering, scheduling – _not engineering_. No, they had to remain on board for emergency repairs – fixing ruptured escape pods, keeping the…the reactors running.

_Shit._

He couldn’t think of that now. No time. He had to keep moving. Well, he wanted action and he certainly had it now. Adrenalin is a powerful drug and right now, as he sprinted through familiar halls and corridors against the screeching of sirens, it coursed through Neyo’s veins like electricity – jolting his mind and body to where it was most needed. Rounding another bend in the metal path, door-panels sliding open – Neyo’s head almost imploded at the sight of the two kriffing droids behind the opposite entryway.

_Can they not keep out of the way for two shitting minutes?!_

That was all the time he gave to register them, already turning right at the sound of an ignited lightsabre – no - several lightsabres. Fuck! Karking hells, fuck it all.

Finally reaching his destination, Neyo catapulted himself into the fray – having encountered his General engaging Grievous and a squad of battle-droids alone, several troopers lying dead at their feet. His men were quick to join and Neyo barely had the time to avoid a shot to the chest as he fired relentlessly on the droids.

That was always the strategy with Grievous, or the Count/Ventress. Troopers engage the droids, Generals engage the lightsabre wielding maniac – once the piece-of-shite droids were down, assist the general. Only, as Neyo watched the mechanical General knock Gallia back, he soon found himself having to trust his men to suppress the droids alone and hurtled after her.

He barely registered another explosion to the side of the hanger as Neyo began firing on Grievous, the blaster fire soon redirected back into his chest and sending him crashing into the wall behind. Luckily, it hadn’t penetrated his armour and he was soon on his feet and pursuing Grievous’ retreating form – Gallia, recovering from a similar predicament, spared just one nod to Neyo before joining him.

_Seriously? Why does he always run?!_ Was all Neyo could think as they lost sight of the General – not that they had time to search – battle droids were still boarding _The Perseverance_ and each new corridor or doorway seemed to host the arrival of _clankers_.

At some point his comm channel activated to relay an emergency transmission from the deck:

_“Commander. General Plo Koon has been contacted. He is on route with reinforcements.”_

_Thank kriff for that._

He barely had time to scream an acknowledgement over the blaster-fire. A rescue from Wolffe, he was never going to live this down.

[Break]

The firing was endless, streams of blasters and detonating explosions were raining upon Neyo and his troops with such ferocity that it was almost impossible to tell whether they had been cast by them or the invading droids. The bodies of his men were accumulating so rapidly that he was running out of space to stand, trying his best to ignore them for now – focusing on the fight, Neyo was becoming increasingly aware of just how outnumbered they were. Through the thick, pungent cloud of blaster-smoke, he struggled to make out the form of one of his Corporals, Lifts, sinking to one knee; having taken a hit to the shin. Neyo had scrambled through the hazes to provide cover but, by the time he reached Lifts’ side the trooper was already dead.

He’d already lost sight of his General; having been unable to keep up with hers and Grievous’ accelerated combat manoeuvres. Whether Gallia was alive or not was indecipherable at this time; her comm channel had fizzled out and the fact that the droids seemed to be prioritizing Neyo’s squad did not bode well, but he knew better than to underestimate his Jedi. He just had to hope that Grievous was taking hostages today – then again, seeing what had happened to Eeth Koth, she might fare better dead.

Hastily jerking his head behind him while still relentlessly releasing torrents of blue fury from his DC-15A blaster carbine, Neyo noted with undetectable anguish that only one of his troopers remained standing. They weren’t doing well, not at all – most of his men had been deployed before being declared fully combat-ready; kriffing Kaminoans not seeing the need to see it through when joining a recon corps - a grave oversight that cost his men their lives.

Those who knew Neyo also knew not to expect anything in the way of emotions, those few close to him however, knew there was no force stronger than his wrath; once awakened, virtually insatiable. He could count the number of times he’d lost control of his temper on one hand. The first instance had almost cost him a demotion; a Senate gala where five of his men almost allowed a fatal security breach – no one had seen Neyo’s acrimony before that point and no one anticipated the extent to which it could uncoil, even as it was happening. The second, well, those smart enough tended not to speak of that time. And then, there was now.

Through the crimson fog of his own rage, Neyo watched the last of his squad fall – a ferocious snarl bubbled out of his throat at that, the burning ire still projecting out of his mouth as he grabbed the trooper’s discarded Z-6 rotary blaster cannon and hauled it with an inhuman strength at the last three droids. The effect was instant, now pinned uselessly, Neyo was able to fire three rapid shots into each head before launching himself over their smoking bodies and tearing down the corridor.

Neyo could hardly control his breathing – not from the force of his unbreakable pace, nor from the exhaustion of the endless fighting – or even the adrenalin of the battle coursing through his veins but his detestation of the Kaminoans who led his ill-prepared men to their deaths. Really it was a combination of all the factors - but Neyo could not see past the wall of fire blazing in his eyes and now, as he stood gasping against the force of his own fury and stood at a four way intersection, he could see his own death in the echoing thunder of approaching battle-droids.

Neyo had no qualms about dying, he had no fear of it - but right now, as he stood heaving against his own broiling breath; his lungs constricting as if trying to squeeze out liquid inferno, he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

Two of the blast doors had been shut off already and if he was going to secure the last one and press through the fourth he’d have to act fast. To the right of the third door he spotted the incinerated shell of an R4-series droid, lying on its side – utility arm still extended. The droid had obviously perished in its attempts to secure the cruiser and Neyo was forced to spring into cover behind its broken body as two battle – kark, _super-_ battle-droids entered the doorway and immediately opened fire.

He had no chance of getting out of this one, none. Fuck anyone who said he’d die without trying though. He couldn’t fire on the _clankers_ – the second he rose from his makeshift barricade they’d have him surrounded, it would take three shots just to bring one of the fuckers down – giving its counterpart infinite time to obliterate Neyo.

Without any other option, Neyo lifted the fallen R4 unit in front of him as a makeshift shield and made a frenzied dash for the door panel; it was superficially lightyears away as the droids body grew hotter and hotter with the onslaught of fire it received, even through his thermally regulated gloves, Neyo felt the tips of his fingers begin to blister. Reaching his destination, Neyo threw the droid down and his own body behind it, yanking the utility arm free with a display of power that could have only been fuelled by the thought of his own impending demise. Resorting to doing things the old fashioned way, Neyo now attempted to secure the blast doors shut by using the arm as a makeshift screw driver. He hadn’t actually hot-wired a panel in – well – never outside of a simulation but he’d rather kiss a Gungan than die without trying.

Neyo was still frantically abusing the control with the droids mangled arm when he felt the vibrations of footsteps behind him. Now vulnerable on two sides, he could only pray to kark-knows-what that he’d be able to shut the doors in time to dive behind the droid’s other side in cover from the new threat.

The panel wasn’t budging quick enough.

This was it.

The footsteps were louder, Neyo so absorbed in his efforts to secure the doors, didn’t recognise the signature sound of plastoid covered boots. Only when the streams of red blaster-fire became interwoven with ribbons of blue did he stop. Watching the last super-battle-droid fall, he dared to look behind him, meeting the eyes of a white visor painted grey.

Wolfpack

There were six troopers, led by a Sergeant – Sinker he recalls from one of Wolffe’s rants about his men. Neyo actually breathed a sigh of relief aloud as Sinker outstretched his arm and allowed the Wolfpack trooper to haul him to his feet.

Wolffe would never let him live this down.

“You should have left me for dead.” Neyo’s wrath hadn’t subsided yet, it likely wouldn’t until days – even weeks after he’d submitted the report of the shit-storm that was today, and Sinker was visibly taken aback by the bark in Neyo’s tone.

“Time for all of us yet.” The Sergeant quipped before leading Neyo over the bodies of the fallen battle-droids; back into the fray.

[Break]

It was only half-way through Sinker’s updates that Neyo realised the comm on his vambrace had been destroyed – which is why he hadn’t been aware that the reactor had been stabilised until now; _The Perseverance_ was secured.

_Good job Astrid_

As soon as the name entered his mind, Neyo felt as though he’d stopped breathing. She wasn’t a chemical engineer but he knew once the last of the fighters had been deployed, the more skilled engineers would have been diverted from the hanger towards the reaction chamber – it’s stabilisation being top priority.

_They succeeded. She must have survived._

The sharp prick of doubt was what finally cooled the liquid anger sweltering in his veins. Neyo couldn’t bring himself to think of her, especially not her face – beaming up into the harshness of his intense glare as it had the last time he saw her. If he wanted to survive this, fight for any of his men that might have survived, find his General – then he’d have to ignore the twisting in his gut for now. He had to focus.

Sinker was leading him to the hanger, the last of the droids onboard had fallen but Gallia had apparently been taken hostage – General Koon and Wolffe were already engaging with Grievous’ forces and awaiting Sinker’s arrival.

As they drew closer to the hanger, Neyo was relieved by the volume of 91st troopers he passed on route – Chaos among them.

When they finally reached the hanger Neyo couldn’t force his gaze forward anymore, even as he boarded the shuttle with Sinker and the Wolfpack troops, his eyes were darting frantically around the hanger for any sign of _her_. WAC was there, toddling behind a maintenance worker and carrying a large piece of debris, but no Astrid.

Neyo swallowed audibly inside his helmet and clenched his jaw as the shuttle doors slid shut before him, the vessel lifting him towards Grievous’ flagship.

[Break]

It’s a good job that Gallia, Koon and Wolffe were already cutting down the last of the droids when Neyo and Sinker found them. Neyo did not think he would have been able to focus right now. His head, no matter how much he tried, was drowning in _what-ifs_. He felt as though he were being held underwater even as he stepped towards the Generals – he registered Wolffe informing them that Grievous had fled, typical – but the voices were echoing distortedly. He had to get to his own ship.

No. He had a job to do.

_Snap out of it._

Nothing is confirmed yet. Finish the mission.

Neyo was jolted from his thoughts when the two droids he met earlier suddenly emerged from behind a support beam in the ships corridor. The chatty protocol droid was screeching in surrender. General Koon extinguished his lightsabre just as Wolffe groaned in recognition of the gold-plated prick. “I can’t believe it.”

“You know these droids Commander Wolffe?” Koon probed just as Gallia smirked and deactivated her own sabre.

“Yes Sir, we escorted them to master Gallia’s ship – after we left the planet Aleen.” Wolffe sounded unbelievably agitated and he noticeably deflated as the protocol droid recognised him; enthusiastically yammering on about his adventures again.

Trolling like only fathers can, Koon raised his brow in what Neyo assumed was amusement as he delivered the fatal blow. “Well I’m certain Wolffe would love to hear about it.”

Right now, even as he watched Koon saunter away and Wolffe frantically try and shake the loquacious droid off of him, Neyo – now increasingly aware that the battle was over, couldn’t think of anything but getting back to his own hanger.

[Break]

The de-brief was taking forever, normally Neyo appreciated Windu and Yodas thorough questioning at the end of each update but now – he just needed to get away.

When the transmission finally ended, he didn’t even bother to excuse himself as he stalked out of the strategy room and just as he was reaching the elevator, Wolffe stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you up for a caf in the mess? Could use a wind-down while the Generals are catching up”

“I need to inspect the damage to the fighters in the hanger.” Neyo answered automatically, it wasn’t a bad lie really. Wolffe knew that Neyo didn’t have to physically examine the damage himself, there were reports for that, but he also knew how fastidious he could be as well. Neyo hoped that was enough for him not to question it.

“Want me to bring you a caf in a bit?” Neyo knew just by Wolffe’s questioning tone that he was suspecting something was up – Wolffe knew him too well for him to hide anything unfortunately; a rare achievement.

“No.” Neyo abruptly replied, already stalking off.

Wolffe didn’t pry at least, but Neyo could tell he was concerned and he didn’t need to look back to know that the pack Commander had stopped to watch him leave. When the doors of the elevator slid shut, Neyo punched in the button for the hanger and tore his bucket from his head - throwing it to the floor before taking three deep, slow breaths and rubbing his eyes. He leant against the wall behind him, and blinked into the blinding light above.

The elevator chimed and he bent to pick up his helmet, securing it in place and folding his hands behind his back just as the doors opened.

Stepping out into the hanger, with hands still clasped and walking in a controlled stride, nothing looked out of the ordinary. Neyo gave no indication to the way his pulse raced as he neared Astrid’s usual perch, and he made a show of questioning the hurried troopers and workers that passed him on the extent of the damage. It was to be expected of him, everyone who served with him knew Neyo was thorough – in actuality he just needed to prolong his journey as much as possible; not ready to turn the last corner and see the engineers, not ready for the possibility that Astrid wasn’t there, that she –

Then, he saw her.

His heart leapt up into his throat with such velocity that he almost choked on it.

Her skin was paler than he had ever seen it, having lost the little colour it normally held and her dark eyes were seemingly pitch-black against her chalky pallor; looking so fragile in this moment that he worried if he were to touch it, it would dust away. Her hair was ruffled and her hands trembled against the mug she was clutching; more interested in conducting its heat into her skin than drinking its contents but – she was safe. Not a scratch on her perfect little body.

Neyo silently observed her; she was sat atop her normal bench as she spoke to her line manager, Dandu – an Onderonian with a booming voice and wicked sense of humour. He had a comforting hand on her shoulder as he addressed their team – commending them and demanding that they get some rest for a long day tomorrow.

Now that he was here, carrying out his covert surveillance of Astrid and her team, seeing them physically unharmed. Neyo felt nonsensical, he could feel the fear leaving his body but his chest still cracked with the realisation of just how much it would have affected him if she had been hurt. He had never been so conflicted, his life was a steady divide of black and white. But now, as he gazed at this sweet little engineer and her friends comforting each other – he didn’t know what to think.

He couldn’t go over, Neyo knew that, he already felt stupid enough just for being here. Content that her colleagues would provide the emotional support that he couldn’t, Neyo spared Astrid one last glance before turning away. Heading towards the centremost lift, he was met with the sight of Wolffe; arms folded and a single scarred eyebrow raised.

_Shit._

Neyo didn’t betray his panic and calmly gestured for Wolffe to follow him. Wolffe, always dependable, waited for the doors to securely close before teasingly probing Neyo.

“Inspecting the damage to the hanger?” Wolffe asked with hints of accusation, poorly disguised as enquiry.

“Exactly that.”

“You seemed more interested in the crew repairing it than the actual damage, well, one crew member in particular.” Now fully abandoning his mock obliviousness and allowing a smirk to decorate his mouth.

“Drop it.” Neyo suddenly found he was seething, not ready to address the issue with himself, let alone Wolffe.

“I would normally, but you abandoned me to that shiny, golden pile of talking shit so I’m pissed at you.” He might have been pissed but he was enjoying this too much to show it.

“That was revenge and you know it.” Neyo snapped back.

“I warned you.” Was Wolffe’s defence.

“Barely.”

Wolffe afforded him thirty seconds of blissful but tense silence before raising Neyo’s hackles again.

“She’s pretty.”

“Don’t.” Neyo spat at him, he refused to turn his head into Wolffe’s smug face – his own face betraying nothing as usual.

“Bit timid looking for you, but pretty.”

“Last chance _vod_ , I mean it.”

Wolffe knew when to stop before going too far at least, satisfied he’d confirmed what he needed to, he simply maintained his signature smirk and he motioned as if to zip his mouth shut.


	6. Secret Weapons

Chapter 6: Secret Weapons

_Month 2, 20 BBY_

Wolffe had spared him from any further mocking or provocativeness about Astrid, and had only made one jibe at the ridiculousness of having to rescue a _Marshal_ Commander of all things when Neyo conceded to join him for a _caf_ before his departure – though he did tease that he should, at the very least, be recommended a promotion over it. Neyo had responded with a single raised finger. Maybe it wasn’t appropriate to sit and joke when he’d lost so many men, but the two troopers knew from experience that dwelling on losses didn’t help anyone in this war, humour at least, was a distraction.

Following the attack on _The Perseverance_ Neyo had scarcely two moments to himself. The past three days had seen countless reports, requisitions and projects needing his approval for repairs. His General was mostly unharmed luckily and was able to throw herself into her duties almost immediately. Neyo respected Gallia immensely for that; she always put her work first.

They would be docking at Coruscant soon, finally able to perform the last restorations to the vessel. _The Perseverance_ was scheduled to arrive by nineteen-hundred and Neyo would immediately be attending a war briefing at the Jedi temple, he felt particularly uneasy about this one – not because several Jedi would be attending, he was used to that, or even that it was to take place in the temple. It _was_ that WAC was supposed to join them, in fact, it was WAC who was being briefed. WAC who would be sent on a covert operation.

Now, if someone were to tell Neyo that the new year would start with WAC being given a role in a stealth mission of all things, he might have treated them with a barking laugh in their face. The reality, unbelievable as it was, was – well, reality. All Neyo had to do was escort his bumbling droid to the brief and leave him to it. He was worried actually, really worried. Deep down, Neyo knew that WAC was capable and could focus when he needed to; he wasn’t concerned about the mission. No, he was worried that his pint-size friend might actually get hurt. _Kriffing hells_ , between Astrid and WAC he was in a constant state of worry these days and he really didn’t appreciate the effect the two were having on him. Neyo was lucky he had mastered his sabacc-face otherwise his men would have been teasing him about going soft.

He hadn’t had a chance to see Astrid at all since the attack, he’d scarcely seen anything but the glare of his datapad the past three days, and he was faced with the realisation that he missed her company. His fears of her wellbeing had only made his hidden feelings all the more prominent in his mind too. Like always, he couldn’t escape from her but now he knew what it was, he _wanted_ her and he had no idea what to do.

Neyo hadn’t had relationships, ever. He didn’t know any clones that did, he wasn’t an idiot though – he knew it happened, it was just that any clone unfortunate enough to fall for someone was smart enough to be discreet. That’s how Neyo saw those who fell for each other; unfortunate. Weak.

Neyo thought he was immune to whatever it was that made people act like fools for each other, he thought he was better than that, stronger. Yet, here he was; getting stomach flutters at the thought of the pretty girl who fixed his machines.

It wasn’t as though Astrid was the first beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She wasn’t even the first woman he had desired either – he could recall plenty of fumbles outside _79s_ , especially in his shiny days, to attest to that. But with Astrid, he didn’t want a quick fuck behind the dumpsters – he just wanted _her._ All the time. He wanted to her to smile for him, laugh for him, _live_ for him. He wanted to be her everything, like she was slowly becoming his. It was foolish, impossible even. She was a smart, stunning and caring young woman; her whole life ahead of her and he, he was a cold-hearted soldier. Neyo hadn’t been bred to live, he’d been bred to fight – she had no future with him and if he were a more selfless man he would have stopped whatever was happening between them long ago.

Yet, here he was, making his way towards the deserted hanger in the hopes that she had stayed late like she often did. He had a moment before they were due to land and he had no excuse for being here other than needing to see her.

Astrid was packing up the last of her tools and placing them neatly into her workbag when he rounded the final corner that led to her bench. She had looked up at the sound of his footsteps and immediately flashed a gleaming smile at the sight of his helmetless face. He wanted to run over, wrap his arms around her, tell her again and again how worried he’d been when the first blast had struck the ship but, he just gave her a small tilt of his expressionless head. Bly had once joked that Neyo was emotionally constipated. Neyo had called Bly mawkish; a maudlin _di’kut_. They were polar opposites; two Marshal Commanders; brilliant soldiers and highly decorated but so different. In this moment, as he stood looking into Astrid’s beautiful, exultant face and unable to move or speak, he wished he were more like Bly.

Neyo only began brooding further when Astrid frowned. It was probably because of his lack of expression; his passiveness finally killing her optimism once and for all. He was about to formulate an excuse for being here when she stepped forward and he noticed her gaze wasn’t on his face, but the crack in his chest plate. He hadn’t been able to replace it yet, he wouldn’t be issued a fresh plate until his next campaign but, he had managed to scrub away the charred black streaks of blaster residue at least. He froze. She was touching him; her fingertips grazing the damaged plastoid with a look of anguish on her face. He hadn’t noticed her step towards him, hadn’t even seen her raise her hand yet, now he could feel the weight of it against his chest. It was the first time they’d ever touched and he wanted to rip his armour off so that he could feel her warmth properly.

She looked up at him then, nervously addressing him with a gasped “Commander.”

He didn’t respond, other than to hold her gaze, he didn’t even know what to do but already she was speaking again.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Astrid softly murmured, fresh and unshed tears tangling in her long, dark lashes.

And just like that, she’d said and done what he never could, so simply, so much braver than him – she’d revealed that she cared about him, _him_ – a clone. He was struck dumb for a moment, unsure how to respond until he whispered one word, needing to hear her say it.

“Neyo.”

“Neyo.” She echoed, accompanied by the sweetest of smiles.

And then, he was lifting her hand from his chest and stalking forward, causing her to step back until he was crowding her against her workbench; one hand placed atop it on either side of her, caging her back against the cold steel. He couldn’t stop, and right now he was silently begging her to tell him to because he knew he couldn’t do it himself. _Kark_ it, he didn’t want to stop. He raised his left hand to cup her face, his thumb grazing her lower lip as he slowly dragged the same hand along to weave his fingers through her bun, holding her gaze up to him. With their considerable height difference, it was such an effort for her to hold his stare in this position that her neck arched, and he swore he could see her pulse jump in what he hoped was anticipation against her flawless skin. Her eyes, pitch-black with pupils blown wide, grew hooded as he lowered his face to nose against her neck. _Fuck,_ she smelt fantastic; light, floral, warm and _feminine_. He felt her breath quicken just as much as he heard it and he moved to press his lips against that exquisite, sweet smelling neck.

He was a fraction away from finally touching his mouth to the divine flesh just below her jawline when suddenly, they were springing apart at the sound of a massive crash from behind Neyo’s shoulders. Neyo whipped around and stood defensively in front of Astrid, only to be met with the sight of his now least favourite pit-droid.

_Bastard._

WAC. Fucking WAC. The absolute dickhead, he had apparently been making his way towards them when he’d placed his foot into an open crate and skidded into the nearest wall, he was fine – well until Neyo got to him he would be. Neyo only tore his glare away from the shit-head droid at the sound of Astrid giggling behind him; she was still leaning against her bench, lovely face completely flushed and failing to hide her smile behind her hand. When she noticed Neyo’s unconcealed, angry pout she only laughed harder.

“Did I miss something funny?” WAC asked in his distinct nasal tone as he reached Neyo’s feet.

Neyo wanted to strangle the bastard, it wouldn’t hurt him obviously but the message would certainly sink in at least. He was seriously considering picking the droid up by his head and throwing him against the wall when Astrid’s gentle voice stopped him.

“Nothing sweetness, were you looking for me?” Astrid sounded out of breath as she answered the droid and Neyo could not help but hope that it was just as much from their ruined moment as her laughter.

_Wait…Sweetness?! That tiny sod is anything but sweet!_

“I was hoping for a quick check up before my big mission” WAC had responded proudly with metal clampers atop his hips, completely oblivious to the way Neyo was grinding his teeth behind a now perfectly composed face.

Astrid only spared Neyo a small, embarrassed smile and continued chatting with WAC about his upcoming mission. Neyo watched them with folded arms as Astrid checked over WAC’s essential programming. He was so devasted, so frustrated right now that a lump had formed in his throat. It also didn’t help that his gaze found itself lingering on Astrid’s mouth, her neck or her hands – the mouth he wanted to kiss, the neck he almost kissed and the hand he held just a few minutes ago. A precious moment, evaporated.

Check ups finally complete, Astrid had patted WAC’s head affectionately and wished him luck and begged him to stay safe. Then she looked up at Neyo.

“I’m on leave for the next five days but I’ll see you when I’m back Sir.” She sounded sad and hopeful all at once. Equally saddened but grateful that she had hadn’t used his first name in front of his troublesome droid, and unable to verbally admit he wanted to see her as soon as possible, Neyo offered her a barely there smile and nod. It was the same smile he’d offered her all those months ago when she’d asked about Kamino and he hoped she could see the significance of him allowing her to see it once more as he made his way to leave.

This month just got shitter and shitter Neyo had mused to himself as he stormed his way out of the hanger, only pausing in his stride to glare at WAC as he skipped beside him. Okay, so it wasn’t the droid’s fault – he had no idea what he was walking, well crashing into and he probably stopped Neyo from doing something monumentally stupid. Nevertheless, Neyo found himself wishing the little sod had arrived later, even just a fraction of a second later. It’s all it would have taken, just an instant, and he would have felt Astrid’s skin under his lips; been able to breathe her scent in for a moment longer. She wanted it too, he had no doubts about that now. He’d seen her eyes drift closed, seen her lips part and felt her sweet breath against his ear. It was heavenly. And he’d lost it, the moment forever ruined.

[Break]

WAC was positively giddy as he and Neyo stepped into the Jedi temple, the latter of the two finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad at the little guy when he was so obviously happy to be of use in something - other than assisting repairs. Neyo had only stepped inside the temple a handful of times. Due to being a reconnaissance corps; it wasn’t very often that the 91st or their General found themselves on Coruscant. Adi Gallia wouldn’t be joining the brief, and again Neyo was only there to _escort_ WAC. Neyo was content to let his irksome little droid lead the way for once, following behind – albeit briskly to keep up with WAC’s excited gallop.

The Jedi Temple always carried an air of mystery, Neyo was one of the few types of people outside the order permitted entry and though they served The Republic, it still made him feel uneasy. It was a huge structure; five impenetrable towers domineering the upper levels of Coruscant but, the interior held so much secrecy. The juxtaposition between something being so visible but so hidden always made Neyo feel as though he was being watched, as if strange shadows were lurking and whispering within the walls; scrutinising him. He wasn’t scared, of course not, but he often found himself lacking in the tranquillity the temple was supposed to offer. Pacing through the ornate but plain halls, Neyo couldn’t help but be reminded that the Jedi weren’t ever intended for war. They were an order of reservation, restraint, sombreness; maintainers of peace. Neyo knew they were fighting for justice but, war was loud. It was destructive and required a willingness to dirty ones hands; something Jedi weren’t exactly capable of. He was loyal to the Chancellor above all else, and it was he who appropriated Jedi aid; Neyo wasn’t exactly in a position to challenge that. He did trust Gallia, admired Kenobi, and he knew Bacara gruffly respected Mundi, that Wolffe venerated Koon, Bly – well Bly adored Secura but Neyo also knew his yellow-painted friend appreciated more than just Secura’s skills in battle, worst kept secret in the GAR those two. But they were just a handful of jedi – their competence couldn’t attest for all of the order. If nothing else, the sheer volume of clone casualties on Geonosis proved they were little prepared to lead a war.

It was when WAC led him straight past the war room that Neyo abandoned his internal oration.

“You’re sure it’s the storeroom?” Neyo questioned, almost warmly as he looked down into WAC’s “eye.”

“That’s what I heard on the comm.” WAC had stopped to answer Neyo so abruptly that the Marshal Commander almost stumbled over him, WAC wobbled as Neyo’s shin plate met his side but simply shrugged it off before continuing on. “I have no idea where it is though.”

Neyo huffed inside his helmet at that, this _kriffing droid._ He could feel his patience wearing already as he angled his visor towards the high-ceiling in silent frustration before lowering it to WAC once more. “If you don’t know where it is, where are you leading us?”

“To find it, I would assume the Marshal Commander of the recon corps to be a lot more observant that you Sir.” Came the lilted reply, more teasing than condescending. WAC already knew Neyo would let him get away with his attitude. His mischievousness had only grown the longer the two spent together and for the umpteenth time since acquiring WAC, Neyo wondered what it was the little guy possessed that made him so lax around him.

“Lead on then.” Neyo sighed and resumed his stride behind the droid once more.

When they finally reached a storeroom, it was completely empty – save some cleaning supplies and a deactivated maintenance droid. The meeting should have started by now and Neyo could hardly imagine General Windu and several other Jedi rocking up here of all places.

“WAC, for the last time, you’re sure it was the storeroom?” Neyo questioned.

“It wasn’t the best channel but I heard storeroom, well _or-room,_ what else could that have meant?” WAC had answered matter-of-factly.

Neyo felt his eye twitch, this is what happens when he gives WAC free reign – it was a bad communication line and he decided to presume rather than enquire.

“War room?” Neyo prompted, impatient disbelief at WACs oversight clouding both syllables.

“Ah.” Was all WAC offered before turning on his heels and leading Neyo towards the actual briefing. Neyo resisted the urge to facepalm before following.

[Break]

Almost an hour later and, absolutely, most definitely late , Neyo was standing to attention in the doorway of the War room as WAC hit the control panel. Fully intending to just sneak in the back quietly, Neyo actually did face palm as he watched WAC run, trip and skid directly up to General Windu and blab an apology for their tardiness.

“WAC-47 reporting for duty!” He announced with all the confidence of a spooked fathier, he somehow managed a salute though.

_At least he got that part right._

“Sorry I am late, I though the message said to meet in the Jedi storeroom – whether that is.” WAC elaborated animatedly with a nervous chuckle before trying to peep around Windu and look at the holotable.

He was still blabbering, _kriff_ he was making Neyo look bad here. Generals Secura and Skywalker were stood looking completely unamused with their perfectly behaved droids, and Neyo certainly did not want WAC’s antics being the topic of Bly’s pillow-talk thank you very much.

“Fall in line, _soldier_.” Windu ordered frostily. Neyo watched WAC trot off and shove himself, rather forcefully, between two astromechs without giving any indication that he recognised Windu’s contempt. Neyo was exasperated, he was beginning to regret thinking WAC would be okay now. He felt like a parent with a crying kid in a fancy restaurant – well, he hadn’t ever experienced that himself but Fox had accompanied the chancellor to enough formal dinners to relay Neyo with plenty of stories. Thank karking fuck for armoured buckets he had thought as he shook his head in pure mortification, daring to make eye contact with a sympathetic General Kenobi. Yes, Kenobi knows the pain of having your charge make you look bad.

“Sooo I hear we’re gonna be taking out separatists?!” WAC acknowledged enthusiastically, accompanied by some horrendously off-form martial arts moves that Neyo most definitely did not teach him. Seriously where does he get this from?…Oh. Chaos. One day Neyo was going to throttle his Captain, and then he’ll throttle Cody. Neyo was forced to endure the sight of WAC accidentally kicking himself in his sensor as he stood to attention once more, parallel to Kenobi at the entrance.

The blow must have done WAC some good as he’d finally shut up now, allowing Windu to continue speaking. “I will be honest; some of you may not make it back.” He spoke grimly, still glaring at WAC.

_Spoke to soon._

“Why is he looking at me?” Came WAC’s flustered response before glancing around the room, then back to Windu. “We’re you looking at me?”

_Shut up WAC!_

Neyo half wished the floor would just swallow him whole as he was forced to watch his droid make an absolute tit out of himself. Luckily, Windu just ignored him and began introducing the mission leader. “The Colonel is one of our top minds at Strategic Command.”

_Oh for fucks’ sake._

“He’s been with the Republic since The Battle of Geonosis.”

_Not that bell-end._

“Colonel Meebur Gascon.”

_Kill me._

Neyo could not stand the Colonel. Simply put, he was a dick. Okay so he wasn’t that bad but _force_ , he was such a condescending _sheb,_ no matter how good he is at reading maps. Neyo didn’t even try and stop his lips from curling in disdain under his helmet as he watched the Zilkin strut through his grand entrance, though Neyo did adjust his stance – he wasn’t going to give the womp-rat any ammunition.

As he withstood the sight of the mini-Colonel dramatically leap onto the holotable.

_It’s obvious your dick is tiny, stop compensating._

Neyo practically turned purple in his armour with the effort to hold in his huffs and sighs. Maintaining his laconic demeanour was never a challenge normally, Neyo naturally lacked any form of outward expression or a desire to change that but today was testing him beyond his abilities. 

“Thank you Master Windu, I’ll take it from here.” Came the exaggerated drawl Neyo had come to associate with Gascon.

“May the force be with you.” Was Windu’s clipped response, but most importantly, Neyo’s signal to leave.

Kenobi ignored Neyo’s attempts to let him exit first and politely motioned for him to leave before him. Kenobi like to subvert social expectations; he didn’t exercise his right to walk before a clone. It should feel nice but Neyo always felt at a discomfort, it went against the lessons drilled into him on Kamino but he indulged the Master anyway, not wanting to look impolite. He spared WAC one last look before leaving, but the little sod was transfixed by Gascon already and didn’t notice.

_Be safe buddy._

The radical shift from embarrassment and scorn to sudden worry must have created a wave through the force or something, if that’s how it works anyway, because Kenobi stopped him after a few paces down the temple corridor.

“They’re quite the team. You shouldn’t worry about your droid; he seems…enthusiastic but, capable.” He’d spoken in his customary clipped but perfect elocution, not even giving Neyo time to respond as he continued forwards.

_Bloody Jedi._


	7. Point of No Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, shorter chapter for now but I do plan on releasing chapter 8 soon too - originally they were one single draft but it was far too long haha. 
> 
> I also just wanted to quickly mention that I might not be updating as frequently soon. I definitely won’t abandon this fic as it’s the only thing keeping me sane at the moment but I started writing as an exercise to help with my mental health. I was at my lowest for quite a long time and after a sabbatical ended up quitting my job. But my friends and family have been amazing and it was my fiancé that suggested I start to write and I’m so happy to be starting a new career on Monday. I’m so so excited as it’s a move towards my dream job but it will mean I have less time to write so to anyone enjoying this fic please be patient with me.

Chapter 7 Point of No Return

_Month 2, 20 BBY_

WAC and Astrid had both only been gone for three days when Neyo came to the disgusting realisation that he missed them both. In all honesty, he knew he would; WAC was his almost constant companion and Astrid, _shit._ That was a mess.

The past few times Astrid had been on leave it was easier to forget she existed but so much had happened now. He’d left so much unsaid between them, they hadn’t parted on bad terms – not at all but, he still walked away before he could show her just how much she means to him. The distance from her caused a newly developed anxiety over seeing her again - a plethora of terrible scenarios playing out in his mind. He hates himself for his weakness too; his lack of rationalisation, hates _her_ for doing this to him.

_No_.

He doesn’t hate her, he cares for her so much that it’s agonising but he could never hate her for it. A horrible, dark part of him hoped that she was in as much pain as him; yearning for him and getting conflicted over her own feelings. He wished he knew how to make sense of it all, everything was just so foreign.

He should be better than this; CC-8826 – fucking Marshal Commander of the Recon Corps, should not be losing his head over something as trivial as desire. Astrid was destroying every fibre of his being. But at least she was out of harm’s way he mused. His little droid on the other hand could be lying in a pile of scrap and bolts for all he knew. Neyo’s head was spinning between them both and it was crippling him.

Though, despite his inner turmoil, Neyo still maintained textbook level decorum and his ability to execute his duties with razor sharp precision never waived. If anyone noticed a difference in his demeanour, they were smart enough not to voice it. Well, except Bacara. He was always the exception.

Earlier today, he’d commed Neyo and the first thing the miniaturised, blue tinted version of his oldest friend had remarked was that Neyo seemed “off.” He’d dismissed it immediately, but unlike Wolffe, Bacara _would_ pry.

“You’re acting far away.” Bacara had spoken matter-of-factly.

_This is why I kriffing hate hologram calls._

“I am, we’re stationed on opposite sides of the Galaxy Bac.” Neyo had grumbled.

The tiny projection of Bacara simply stared back, thoroughly unamused and huffed impatiently. Neyo, still maintaining his signature blank expression had sternly upheld. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.”

Neyo knew he wouldn’t win this, Bacara might let it go eventually but he couldn’t fool his brother. The small bubble of people who could read Neyo was confined to Bacara, Wolffe and WAC – sometimes Chaos. Jedi didn’t count because they had an unfair advantage and Astrid wasn’t quite there yet, she was close but he could still see the apprehension in her eyes when she was trying to gage his mood. 

“I can’t _tat.”_ Neyo murmured, barely audible and he cringed internally at how broken he sounded. Bacara was all harshness and brutality – a perfect contrast to Neyo’s emptiness and, he really did not like his brother seeing him this way. He knew he could trust Bacara with anything, everything, but this – Astrid – he just wasn’t ready. He had barely accepted his own feelings, let alone the ability to convey them. He almost felt guilty too, knowing that Wolffe knew more than Bacara.

“Is it that shit-head droid of yours?” Bacara spoke, mirthful distaste clouding his tone. It was no secret that Bacara was less than found of WAC and Neyo could tell his friend was trying to ease the sombreness of the conversation.

Neyo had huffed what could be called a laugh at that, Bacara was close to the mark but Neyo respected his friend too much to lie anymore. “Only partially.”

Bacara had raised a brow at that and rubbed at his beard. “It must be bad then, he’s always what gets your panties in a twist.” Wheezing slightly at his own poor joke, he followed up with “He’ll be alright, you know that. As for the other thing…?”

He had trailed with a questioning tone and Neyo sighed out a defeated answer. “It could be something, it could be nothing.”

Bacara must have realised that was all he was going to get out of Neyo because he simply nodded an understanding.

It was an odd exchange. The two brothers weren’t adverse to comforting each other but, always indirect with their feelings and emotions; it did not happen very often. Both were still reluctant to appear vulnerable in front of each other. At an absolute maximum their comforting techniques involved some contraband alcohol and a clap on the shoulder, not patient words of reassurance. When Bacara eventually switched to a more light-hearted topic, Neyo had to avoid breathing a sigh of relief.

“You all prepped for your strategy conference in two days?” Bacara had asked an innocent enough question though, the intent was anything but and he snickered at the clenching of Neyo’s jaw. 

Conferences were a drag, they lasted an entire day – time that could be spent on the front lines, GAR strategists were some of the most boring people he’d ever met and even worse the follow up report had to be submitted with an evaluation questionnaire. Apparently, responding “No” and “No” to the questions: _Did you learn anything new today?_ And _Was this conference beneficial?_ Was not constructive and wouldn’t be considered in project analysis. 

Frankly, all commanders hated them. Except for Gree. Fucking nerd-brain Gree loved a good conference.

“At least you’ll have _Bitey_ and _Kote_ with you.” Bacara offered with a grin, he almost looked jealous actually. The Nova Corps rarely spent time off campaign and normally Bacara relished in the constant fighting - still, Neyo could tell he missed seeing his brother’s in person.

“I might convince them to join me in suggesting the Nova’s play a more direct role in future conferences as part of my evaluation.” Neyo teased, a hint of genuine understanding, portraying his sympathy through jest as brothers often did.

“Nah, they need my glorious ass on the field at all times. Keeps the boy’s morale up.” Bacara boasted.

“We have the same ass, so thanks.”

“Mine’s firmer.”

Neyo snorted at that.

[Break]

The next two days were a blur, Gascon was due to report in at any time and Neyo had to force himself to stop checking his messages every thirty seconds for any sign of his little droid. The apprehension he felt was getting worse and while radio silence from a covert ops squad was the norm, the lack of WAC’s innate chatter in his ear left him in a state of unease. Astrid would have returned to work by now but he hadn’t had a spare moment to greet her, that’s _if_ he could bring himself to face her again. He was already on route to _The Valor_ when the rotation shuttle would have boarded _The Perseverance._

_The Valor_ is an impressive space station, located in the Carida system, and able to host conferences of remarkable sizes – and attendance was always high due to their mandatory nature. Neyo could already feel his migraine building when he roughly slammed himself onto a metal bench facing the holotable. Bacara may very well end up with a more impressive ass by the time this fucking conference ended, having his pressed against the insolently frigid and uncomfortable seat all day would probably flatten Neyo’s till it resembled old beer. He could just see the top of _The Perseverance_ from the vantage point and it brought him a small source of comfort to see his escape route from this shit-show at the ready.

It was the appearance of Wolffe’s crotch to the left of his peripheral that snapped Neyo’s attention from the viewing window and back to the present. The one-o-fourth commander had cocked one leg on the bench next to him and rested his corresponding foot on the seat below.

“Mornin’.” He grunted at Neyo, clearly just as displeased as he was at being here.

“Wolffe, get your scratched, plastoid cupped dick out of my face.” Neyo snarled straight back, Wolffe realising that his groin was indeed level with his superior officers face stepped down by one step to resume the same position – though not without adding a crude pelvic thrust first.

Face now at Neyo’s eye level, Wolffe laughed out an insincere apology. “You should keep your voice down, everyone will be asking for it.”

“You’re a disgrace.” Neyo huffed, though not without humour.

“How’s your squeeze?” Wolffe asked quietly, no hint of malice but a risky move nonetheless.

“Fine. How’s your dad?” Neyo fired back, a touch of warning in his tone to drop the topic.

“Well.” Wolffe answered, oddly amusingly though it soon morphed into his signature annoyance. “I really can’t be _kriffing_ arsed with this.”

Neyo agreed with a grunt, abandoning his rigid posture to lean forwards and rest his elbows on his knees. Cody strolled up to them then, muttering a greeting.

They all wore their helmets but Cody’s exhaustion rolled off of him in waves as he marched to sit near Neyo and Wolffe’s feet. “I swear I spend so much time around Skywalker that I legally have joint custody at this point. Rex deserves a medal.” He grumbled.

“I could say the same with Commander Tano, Plo adores her but every time Skywalker drops his kid off all hell breaks loose.” Wolffe sympathised. “It doesn’t help that Boost, Warthog and Comet encourage it either.”

“I’m surprised your dad hasn’t requested a padawan actually, not fancy a little brother or sister Wolffey?” Cody snarked, somehow finding the energy to mock his _vod._

Wolffe ignored the bait, though Neyo could tell his glare was probably burning a hole through his visor at Cody. “He’s trying, they say he’s currently got too many responsibilities but to be honest – they probably know he’ll just spoil them.” Wolffe conceded.

Neyo exhaled in what might be considered amusement while Cody did laugh before groaning and dragging himself to his feet – both Wolffe and Neyo wincing at the noise his back made as he stretched. “Well, looks as though we’re starting soon.” He grunted out through the strain, then took up a position of ease at the War table, half raising a hand in goodbye as he turned his back.

“Someone needs to hide his caf.” Wolffe uttered.

Cody, still in earshot, turned to raise two of his fingers before folding his arms and facing the holotable again. Suddenly, Cody was whipping his head to the side as he noticed Skywalker gesturing for Kenobi to look out the window. Neyo and Wolffe only spared each other one glance as they hastily stood to face the view; the last cruiser to join them was approaching – fast, really fast.

Without realising, Neyo’s feet were striding purposefully to the bridge – his brothers beside him. Neyo barked at one of his men to check the incoming cruiser’s ID while Admiral Tarkin ordered several deck officers to communicate directly with the incoming ship’s Captain.

When all channels came up unresponsive, Neyo had to squash the frustration building in his chest. They were helpless like this. It’s not as though they could move the space station and they certainly couldn’t deploy a shuttle in time to dock with the approaching cruiser. He was about to shout to Wolffe for suggestions when Tarkin’s panicked voice franticly announced that they had detected a large amounts of rhydonium on the vessel.

_Fuck._

“It’s a bomb!” Skywalker ground out.

They were completely fucked now, they had no way of disabling that thing. They and everyone docked below: His crew, his troops, his general, his _vode_ would be obliterated if the cruiser exploded.

Neyo never thought he’d die like this. He’d rather he’d have gone in a blaze of blaster-fire back when Grievous attacked his ship, how a clone was supposed to go. Instead, he’d perish in a ridiculous assassination scheme like some pampered politician.

Then he thought of _The Perseverance_ below them.

_Astrid._

Not again, he couldn’t do this again, even though he’d be dead too – the thought of her precious face leaving this galaxy...He couldn’t do this again.

It seemed everyone around him had resigned themselves to their fate too, silently staring out the window at the approaching cruiser as it raced towards _The Valor._

“It’s been a pleasure Neyo.” Wolffe spoke beside him, he didn’t turn to face him, perfectly prepared to stare his impending demise in its face.

Neyo mirrored Wolffe, facing his end and offered a “likewise brother” in sincere response.

Then, the cruiser exploded.

The first jet of blue energy charging out of the hull and causing the whole space station to jerk with the blast. It’s funny, Neyo mused, the things you notice in death, the things you cling to. The last time Neyo thought he was going to die the adrenalin pushed him to impossible capabilities and he survived. Now, he was in denial. The ship seemed far enough away that hope clutched at his windpipe as he thought there was a chance the shock waves, due to ripple any moment, might not reach them.

“I don’t think it was supposed to blow that early.” Wolffe muttered beside him.

Neyo barely registered his words when blinding white light burned his vision and sonic waves reverberated through his eardrums. _The Valor_ quaked with such force from the impact of the now invisible explosion that men went flying around him – Neyo felt himself soaring backwards through mid-air, his back colliding harshly with the railing behind him. Wolffe skidded on his side, stopping a few inches in front. Neyo dragged himself to his feet, ears ringing and still dazed as he held his hand out to Wolffe. Their palms hadn’t yet touched when the second blast sent them crashing again, butting heads on the way down.

Over the shouts and grunts of the men around him, Neyo could hear the echoing of debris thundering against the space-station. It was louder than the rains of Kamino, louder than the blood coursing through his veins.

Then it was over.

The noise was dying down now, only the occasional ping of a loose piece of junk or shrapnel hitting the side of the station at a much reduced velocity. The men around him still grumbled in pain as they righted themselves, but all injuries were superficial. There was no blood, no gashes, no breaks. Neyo hauled himself to his feet again, dragging his body up and holding the rail for support. Wolffe was standing again too, helmet moving agitatedly side to side at the confused chaos around him.

“Mayday! Mayday!” Gascon’s voice screeched from an unidentified comm channel on the war table behind them.

_Not fucking Gascon…Wait! WAC! Is he okay?!_

For the first time, Neyo found himself hanging on to every word Gascon emitted as he shouted through the comm. “Space station Valor, this is Colonel Meebur Gascon. Can anyone hear me?”

Skywalker was responding immediately, demanding an explanation for what had just happened: D squad were on the vessel. R2 detonated the bomb early, saved them. If Gascon had escaped surely WAC had? He was the kriffing pilot, of course he had!

_He had to._

_And Astrid_.

He could see _The Perseverance_ clearer now – no massive amounts of damage as far as he could see but the jolt of the explosion could have knocked her off her feet. She could have a head wound, it could be fatal. And WAC. Anyone could pilot a shuttle, they didn’t have to get him out of there.

It was Wolffe’s voice that broke him from his inner turmoil. “She’ll be fine.”

Neyo didn’t respond.

[Break]

The conference hadn’t been abandoned and Neyo had to stop himself from jumping up to his feet and start pacing while he waited for Skywalker to retrieve D-Squad. When they finally strolled through the door, WAC among their group, Neyo _did_ jump to his feet. He marched straight over, Gascon already beginning his over-exaggerated, puffed up re-telling of their mission. Neyo paid him no heed, he picked up WAC, marched back to his seat, deposited him on the bench beside him and patted his head twice with a whispered “good boy.”

He ignored Wolffe and Cody’s chuckles.

The conference lasted forever, once all the excitement had died down, Tarkin and Windu both insisted that they should plan new protocol as a result but also resume the original agenda for the day. Neyo was especially irked to hear that Gascon would be assigned to him for the foreseeable future but with his little buddy by his side, Neyo didn’t bother dwelling on it. By the time he had docked with his own cruiser it was evening and the hanger was long deserted. There had been no casualties here either. Everyone was safe.

WAC’s reciting of the past week was as hyped up and energised as expected but Neyo didn’t care. He listened patiently and when it was over he made sure tell his tiny droid what a good job he had done. Neyo also couldn’t help practically tucking WAC in for the night, letting him trot all the way to his own quarters beside him and allowing him to deactivate himself and charge his power cells under Neyo’s desk.

However, glancing at WAC now, all bundled into his “resting” position – Neyo still felt uneasy. He was jittery and wound-up. He knew Astrid was fine; if there were any deaths or injuries, no matter how few – Gallia would have briefed him immediately. But, he had to be sure. He had to see her. Now.


	8. Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead guys. Be warned.

Chapter 8: Safe

_Month 2, 20 BBY_

Neyo is a _Di’kut_. An absolute _Di’kut_ ; a twat, a cock, a _sheb_ but most of all, he is definitely acting against regulation. Right this moment, Neyo found himself striding through a corridor on _The Perseverance_ he had never visited before, completely losing the argument with himself to stop what he was doing and turn around.

He couldn’t.

As far as Neyo was concerned, Astrid had cheated death twice now and he couldn’t let her do so again without telling her that…what? Tell her what? He doesn’t even know what he feels. That he wants her not to die? That’s stupid. No, he wanted her to live yes but, live _for_ him; _with_ him force-willing. He cared about her and he had to show her, tell her what she means to him; what being around her does to him, what not being around her does to him. It was always agonising but he never wanted it to end. They were at war and he had to tell her this before one of them died. What happens beyond his confession he has no idea but, at least she’d know. He was so close before, _so_ close and he had bottled it; hidden behind their interruption like a coward.

Earlier today, as Neyo had watched that hijacked cruiser explode; mountains of debris erupting and spewing out into the chasm of space, he had shook with the realisation that one chunk of warped, mangled metal breaching the hanger of _The Perseverance_ could have ended her life. In hindsight, he was monumentally off the mark with the biggest living casualty being Admiral Tarkin’s sprained wrist but, _kriff_ the worst case possibilities were endless…

_Fuck._

_Double fuck._

He was outside her door now, triple-checking the designation he’d noted, he could confirm it definitely was. Neyo isn’t a creep, absolutely not. However, being Marshal Commander did mean that he had unlimited access to the ships filing system and well, he couldn’t exactly just ask someone where her quarters were – far too risky. Thus, maybe he had logged into the staff database and searched for her name; he hadn’t actually known her surname until this point but luckily she was the only female engineer on Dandu’s team. Hence, figuring out which staff ID was hers didn’t take much time at all. Astrid Dril. Her first name always seemed exotic to him, it was obviously a Hapan name; aristocratic, regal, elegant. But, coupled with the surname Dril, there was an air of harsh, abrupt impenetrableness that just did not suit her at all. Astrid, as far as he’d seen, is lovely; warm and open. She is kind and sweet, she wore her emotions so visibly that more often or not she carried herself with an air of naivety, innocence almost. The opposite of himself.

Regardless of the effect it had on him, he had her name which meant – he now access her schedule and the location of her sleeping quarters. Neyo also ran a quick check on her roommate and his breath had stilled in both embarrassment and relief when he realised that the Zeltron nurse was on a double shift tonight.

Neyo was not being presumptuous; he would tell Astrid what he needed to get off of his chest and what happened next was completely up to her – if he was lucky she’d jump into his arms and she’d teach him how to be hers. If she was horrified by his words, then he’d apologise and never speak to her again. Simple. What would not be so simple would be knocking on her door, her roommate answering and Neyo having to explain his presence:

_“Hi, I just popped by to tell your absolutely perfect roommate that she forces me to smile every time I see her and I’m glad she’s alive.”_

Yeah, he definitely couldn’t do that.

He also, couldn’t hesitate any longer.

_Right, let’s get this over with._

Lifting his right hand, the left holding his bucket against his hip, Neyo knocked twice – loudly. _Fuck_ , probably made her jump – it’s almost twenty-one-hundred, she was probably asleep and he’d tried to wake her up like an obnoxious prick and…the door swished open.

Astrid looked perplexed and pleased all at once and – breathtakingly gorgeous. She was quite obviously dressed for bed and the lingering scent of steam and perfumed soap filled the room behind her. It was the first time Neyo had seen her hair down, it was slightly damp, the thick waves curling at the ends and looking so shiny he had to clench his free hand to stop himself from reaching out and touching it. She was free of make-up, her face as beautiful as ever but somehow looking even softer than normal; relaxed. Her eyes, large and dark as always were framed by glasses – it was _kriffing_ adorable. Less cute was the sight of her bare legs, impossibly long for someone with such a short stature. She was only dressed in some tiny floral patterned shorts accompanied by a huge jumper with the Coruscant University logo. How the actual fuck could she look so sweet and so effortlessly sexy at the same time?! He shouldn’t even be finding this sexy, she was comfortable and relaxed, facing her in his armour with the grime of today coating him he felt like a sordid letch. He tried not to stare, forcing his gaze on her face. He was despicable; an obtrusive presence against her loveliness.

Neyo opened his mouth to speak but the words dried up, caught against nothing when

Astrid’s expression suddenly shifted to worry. “Has something happened to WAC?” She spoke in a rushed panic.

Of _course_ she thinks of WAC right now, like Neyo said, he’s being an absolute _di’kut_ coming here.

“No I needed to see you.” Neyo finally spoke, he swallowed audibly and glanced into the thankfully empty hallway behind him before asking “can I come in?”

“Of course Sir – Neyo.” She looked less worried now, but still flustered, as she moved aside and closed the door panel behind him.

Neyo placed his bucket on the messy desk situated against the same wall, right of the door, and walked further into the room. A quick scope of the surroundings exhibited a small double room; two single bunks and a miniscule _en suite_. There was also a desk to the left of the room and judging by the scattering of _flimsi_ pictures and wall hangings around the right bunk, he had to assume that it was Astrid’s. There was no doubt it was hers; everything was nauseatingly colourful and he could see her face in some of the pictures amidst friends. There were several woven hangings above the headboard with feathers and beads, a large printed sheet with hideous colours and patterns attached to the wall with which the bed was pushed flush against. Her nightstand and desk were topped with weirdly miniature boxes and small desert plants – decorated in equally awful patterns. Nothing matched. It wasn’t messy really but the lack of uniformity and clashing colour-schemes almost made his eyes water.

The bed was topped with several cushions and two knitted blankets over the standard GAR grey sheet; one striped pastels and the other blocks of warm geometrics. She even had _karking_ fairy lights. How the hell she managed to get any sleep with that offensive display was impossible to comprehend. Her roommate’s bunk was equally bedecked but at least the colours were neutral.

When he turned back around he found her leaning against the desk, she’d removed her glasses and tilted her head to the side sheepishly. He kind of wished she’d keep them on, they suited her. “I used to get homesick when I first joined, and our rooms aren’t resigned during rotation so –” She trailed off with a shy laugh. 

He had to lift his lips then, slight and almost miscible but a significant victory for her nonetheless. Astrid’s bright responding grin caused a tidal wave of affection to wash over him, turning Neyo’s face serious once more as he fought to quell the drumming in his chest. He glanced at the floor then back up to her face.

“I was scared today, it’s not something I’m used to.” He finally spoke, his voice was as opaque as ever and revealed little but she must have sensed his unease.

“I was worried about you as well, I thought I’d lost you for a second then it was over so quickly. But, everyone gets scared sometimes Neyo, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Astrid reassured sweetly but completely missing his point. 

“I - I wasn’t scared for myself.”

“You’re adorable, WAC did amazing from what Chaos told us – it’ll take more than…”

Neyo couldn’t help but grimace at the word adorable as he interrupted her. “I was scared for you.” He cut in, needing her to see his point.

Astrid’s smile briefly fell into shock, bemused – _happiness_ dare he think? “I was nowhere near the explosion Neyo…”

He couldn’t take this, dragging it out any longer. He could feel his patience snapping and without realising, he had stormed towards her and grabbed her hands and began speaking with a frantic frenzy; so open and honest that her jaw visibly dropped. “I know! I know, I’m always scared for you lately it seems and it’s killing me! I don’t do this Astrid! I don’t get worried, I don’t fret or balk when things get bad but, since meeting you I can’t stop. I’m always thinking about you, I want to be near you all the time – it’s wrong. I’m not supposed to want things or hope but with you and I’m – I’m…I don’t even know.” Chest heaving and inner-most, darkest secrets laid bare Neyo turned his back to her and faced her repulsively decorated wall once more.

Seemingly recovering quicker from his outburst than Neyo himself had, and calmer than he could expect, Astrid’s gentle voice reached him from behind. “I like you a lot Neyo. I’ll admit I wanted to avoid you like you were a nest of bluebarb wasps from the first time I saw you but, when you let people in, you’re one of the most amazing people I know.” When he kept his back to her she continued, uncharacteristic confidence breaking through her light voice. “I care about you and I want to see where this takes us.”

_Us._

He risked peering over his shoulder, half angling his body towards her once more at that. She’d said _“us.”_ He didn’t know how to be an _us,_ he’d had enough fucks to know he was fairly good at it, that he enjoyed it but being the other half of someone? Now that he was here, with this perfect, sweet girl – he was scared for what seemed to be the thousandth time since meeting her. He ignored her misplaced flattery, no matter how much it warmed him to hear it, he wasn’t amazing. He was barely likeable. But for her, he could try – but what he could give? Affection, care, romance – _force_ help him, love. He wasn’t even sure he was capable of that – he wanted to, he honestly _kriffing_ wanted to so fucking much but she’d need the patience of a saint.

“Astrid.” He croaked, voice hoarse from his flare-up. “I – I’m not like normal folk, I can’t give you anything you deserve – this probably won’t end well. I need you to know what you’re getting into.”

“I don’t care.” Her voice sounded so soft, so reassuring to him that she almost sounded ethereal in this moment.

Still, he had to be honest, he couldn’t get her hopes up. “That’s just a clone thing too, let alone _me._ I’ve never cared for someone this way – I’m not _pleasant_ or nice or...”

“You’re you.” She interrupted and spoke with such unquestionably, tender conviction that he had to turn fully and behold her properly. She stalked up behind him then, coming to stand nearest to the side that half faced her. She gently laced her fingers through his and rested her cheek against his cold, armoured arm.

He sighed in defeat, letting his head rest atop hers; breathing in her amazing shampoo, and his deep timbre - now held its own sureness as he uttered. “And you’re you, and you’re here.”

Slowly, he turned, bringing her into the cold solidness of his chest before grasping her chin with his other hand and raising her devoted gaze to his intense stare. When she did not look away, he moved that same hand to cup her jaw and lowered his lips to hers in the softest press he could manage, both of their eyes drifting shut. Neyo had barely withdrew from that first tender peck when Astrid’s lips chased his and pressed back, his chest practically inflated and he disentangled their fingers so that he could bring his hand to run through her silken hair and respond with his own light kisses. Though, when he caught a damp snag for the third time he lowered it to the small of her back. This was better, _much_ better, he pulled her flush against him and she rose on her tip toes to mould herself into his body even further; her own arms wrapping around his shoulders, hands linking behind his neck. He was dizzy with the feel of her, the _taste_ of her –

_Fuck._

The little minx. She ever so delicately had pulled his lower lip between her teeth and sucked on it once. He shattered. The last fragment of his control was spiralling out of his grip as she awakened a hunger that took him by surprise. The hand cupping the side of her jaw reached the back of her head with a fist of her hair, holding her in place as he mirrored her action with such roughness that she gasped against his mouth – giving him the perfect opportunity to thrust his tongue inside. She wasn’t deterred, this - _his_ perfect girl met him with equal ferocity and pulled herself impossibly closer to him. She responded to his kisses seamlessly and played with the short hairs at his nape. He could feel heat rising in his lower body at a burning pace and moved the hand at her back to grip her firm behind - and he swallowed her answering moan with an insatiable need to hear it again. He continued to knead her ass as he moved his mouth along her neck – that amazing neck he could breathe in all day – sucking and biting marks into her skin. Her hands were everywhere, weaving through his hair; undoubtedly a mess now, griping his shoulders, spanning his waist – he needed his armour off. Now.

He tore his mouth from the abused flesh of her neck to nibble on her earlobe before harshly whispering. “Say the word Astrid and this stops here.”

She exhaled sharply. “Please don’t.” Before recovering enough to add a breathy, giggle “You’re adorable.”

“Stop calling me that.” Neyo practically growled before smashing his lips against hers once more with a new wildness, kissing and marching her backwards to lean her against the desk once more. She moved her own lips to mouth at the turtle-neck of his blacks before gently tugging at his harness in a silent hint.

He pulled back to give her a savage smirk while unclipping his belt and sliding both from his body. He hastily removed all the compositions of his upper armour and placed them in a neat stack amidst the clutter of her desk through practised skill as Astrid watched with impatient fascination. The second the last scrap of white plastoid hit the desk, Astrid yanked Neyo back to her by his blacks and resumed her own harsh kisses.

Okay. Definitely not as innocent as she looks.

It was as though he’d awakened something inside her, _his_ shy, timid girl was suddenly the most self-assured he’d ever seen her. He could tell it didn’t happen often, she wasn’t as anti-social as him from what he’d seen but she rarely took the first step in anything. The fact he had unleashed this confidence in her, made him unbelievably proud; honoured even to be the only one to witness it.

He was high on her, she was taking over all of his senses and all they had done was kiss for what felt like both an eternity and fleeting seconds all at once. Her hands slid under his upper-blacks and ran over his scarred chest, her fingers lingering on each scrape and disfigurement. Needing to feel more he ripped the shirt from his body and finally awarded her with his own groan when mouth immediately met his exposed collarbones. When she softly raked her teeth up and along his pulse point before sucking lightly, he almost doubled over at the sensation and his cod-piece tightened even more unbearably.

At this rate she was going to kill him.

He moved the hands at her hips up just so that they rested under her ridiculously large jumper and skimmed his palms up and down the skin of her stomach and back – stopping just shy of her breasts with each ascent. Her lips had moved back to his mouth and when she didn’t stop him, he began pushing her jumper up – still meeting no hesitation he finally brought it over her head.

Neyo pulled back to watch her face before touching her - she looked fucking wonderful; her skin was flushed pink, eyes black, parted lips swollen and hair a mess. The last remnants of her nervousness completely disappeared at the sound he emitted he glanced down at her bare breasts. They were small, smallest ones he’d dealt with actually but _sweet kark_ they were perfect. “They’re not much to look at.” She spoke matter-of-factly, a hint of tenseness returning.

“They’re fucking fantastic” he said in disbelief at her words before cupping both. They fit amazingly, and he couldn’t help but squeeze them like an over-excited adolescent – but she moaned quietly so he kept doing it. Alternating between massaging her amazing tits and rubbing her pink nipples between his thumb and fingers, he took advantage of the way her head fell back and pressed his lips to the arch of her neck. The franticness of their first kisses had slowed now and realising that this was the most time he’d spent on any woman, the most he’d taken off in front of a woman – yes he kept the armour on for those quickies outside 79s – he resolved to take his time now.

Carefully, he trailed his lips down to the juncture of her neck and shoulder and resumed his opened-mouthed exploration – gliding his tongue over and along her collarbones to replicate the motions on her other side. He repeated this several times before gradually lowering his ministrations down to her chest, he had to arch his back uncomfortably to do so with their mismatched heights but the impatient whimper she emitted when he kissed the tops of her breasts made it worth it. He didn’t have the vocabulary to tease her for it, he wasn’t talkative in most situations and sex unfortunately wasn’t the exception but, he did shoot up a cocky look at her before moving down and taking one nipple into his mouth. Her answering moan was criminally good and he relished the way it trailed off into frantic gasps as he suckled and nipped, releasing her only to lave equal attention on her other breast. 

He eventually tore himself away from her magnificent tits and continued kissing down her stomach. Now, Neyo did not kneel. For anyone, ever. However, right this moment as he kissed his way down the curve of Astrid’s stomach, he couldn’t help but fall to his knees in silent devotion. This beautiful, stunning, perfect woman was giving herself to him in every way and he was determined to worship every inch of her. He wrapped one hand around her thigh and lifted it enough to nose his way from her ankle to her calf, then the back of her knee to her thigh. Ever so slowly, he dropped it again to place both hands on her hips – kissing the skin directly above the waistband of her shorts. Neyo looked up to her for silent permission as his fingers hooked into the fabric and he licked a deliberate, slow line against her pelvis.

Astrid’s breathing was frantic by this point, and Neyo allowed a swell of pride to race through his chest at the knowledge that he had this as much of an effect on her as she on him. When she nodded her consent desperately, he slowly dragged her shorts down her hips and off her feet, kissing just above her pubic bone before sitting back on his haunches just to take in the sight of her – she was breath-taking.

“You’re perfect.” Were the only words he could seem to formulate as he moved forwards again. Neyo had not done this before, to be perfectly honest – he hadn’t really bothered with foreplay much at all; all of the women he’d been with had just wanted a fast fix like him. Cody was a filthy bastard when drunk and he’d once told the entirety of Marshal Command just how good he was at this and that it drove women wild. Neyo was curious certainly but he’d yet to find someone he wanted to do it with. Well, until now. He glanced up at Astrid once more, she’d tangled one hand in his hair and she was biting down on the thumb of the other to stifle her rapid gasps.

He wasn’t going to ask her for guidance – the last thing he wanted to tell her was that he hadn’t ever took the time to actually pleasure a woman before, he’d scare her away. No, he was sure he could gage her reactions for what felt good, and judging by the wetness shimmering on her inner thighs he hadn’t been doing bad so far. Oh _karking_ _hells_ , the sight of it was enough to make him groan and he couldn’t resist sucking a bruise into the soft flesh there before licking upwards at the outside of her slit.

_Fuck, Fuck._

He could listen to those whimpers for the rest of his life, if they were the last sounds he ever heard he could die a very happy man. Like him, she wasn’t talkative in the moment – or particularly loud really. Hence, every escaped gasp, moan and pant had him filling with pride at his ability to coax them out of her; breaking her restraint as she destroyed his.

He was losing his patience again now, every sensation was working against him but, the scent of her was especially intoxicating. Desperate to taste her, he used his thumbs to gently part her folds and lick into her heat, moaning at her sublime taste.

Fuck rations, fuck cheap ale, fuck her fucking cookies – this was the best thing he’d ever tasted and if he had anything to say about it he’d be the last person to have it. He didn’t even have the fortitude to tease anymore; as soon as he found her clit with his tongue and she muffled an almost scream into her hand – he knew she would be close soon. If he were more in control, he would draw this out; make it last longer and ensure it was the best orgasm she ever had but when she made noises like that, he just couldn’t stop. He alternated between slowly circling it with the tip of tongue and flicking over it with quick laps. When her fingers tightened in his hair it granted Neyo the reassurance that he could give her what she needed– clones are fast learners after all.

Sensing she was reaching her peak, he strengthened his grip on her hip, while his other hand moved down to insert a finger inside her and pump in and out. Fuck, _fuck_ she was so tight, he could feel her clenching around him and he soon added a second finger – increasing his speed in time with her frantic pants. All too soon, her breathing hitched and she froze ephemerally before trembling in his grip; gasping through her release as he slowed the moments of his hands and mouth – only withdrawing when she ceased shaking. Neyo couldn’t help stare up at her in awe as he wrapped his arms around her legs, placing one gentle kiss upon her mound, and rested his chin against her stomach.

She looked feral, crazed – still panting like she had run a marathon. “You’re absolutely incredible.” She gasped through tormented lungs. “Get up here.”

He let her see his biggest most genuine smile at that, one that rarely saw another face. He was drunk on her by this point and he obliged her immediately, rising up to his full height. Her passion faltered at his expression, the most relaxed and carefree she had ever seen it, and she beamed up at him in pure adoration. It was as though she were trying to preserve his smile into her memory, aware that she likely wouldn’t see it very often. It that moment, he felt cherished. She used her thumb to wipe the excess of her own slick from his mouth but, he caught her hand before she could drop it, drawing her thumb into his mouth and cleaning it for her. She shuddered at that and her eyes darkened again, she rushed forward and clutched his face, kissing him with a frenzy that had his knees buckling.

“Help me get this off.” She panted into the crook of his next, gliding her hands down his chest to the top of his leg armour.

“Yeah.” He said it as though he wasn’t desperate to free his cock from where it was painfully straining against his cod-piece but his fervour certainly showed when he picked her up and deposited her on her desk, surprising her enough to generate a hitch-pitched squeal, and began tearing his armour off. Much less sensibly than before, he let it fall to the floor with a lack of care he’d likely regret next time he had to scrub it. Cod-piece finally removed, she was able to see the way his blacks tented with the strain and she bit her lip as he stepped between her legs. Kissing up her chest and neck once more, Neyo hissed against her shoulder when she eventually reached down to cup him. His ensuring pleased grunts as she stroked him over his pants ultimately gave her the confidence to reach inside them and wrap her hand around his girth. She worked his shaft agonisingly slowly, stopping just once to run her fingers along the coarse curls there fleetingly then glide her thumb over his leaking tip.She increased her pace on his length when she felt him thrust slightly and bite down on her neck, placing her own heated kisses under his jawline. When she dipped her head lower and finally got her own back by sucking a bruise onto his sternum, he lifted his head to rumble hoarsely. “Astrid, I need you on that bed now.”

He must have sounded absolutely pathetic because she was immediately pushing him back with a smile and hopping down from her desk and leading him to her bunk by the hand. Not without stumbling on the dismount though, she might be unbelievably sexy as he followed her pert little ass to bed but, she still was the least agile creature he’d ever met. He loved it. She stopped only to push the hand-knitted blankets out the way before sitting on the edge – shaking her head playfully when he tried to crawl over her. “No pants rule Neyo.”

He raised a brow in mock offense before pulling down both his blacks and his greys in one fluid sweep, he smirked as her eyes widened in shock and beckoned her to reluctantly tear her gaze from his cock to his face.

“Yeah?” He huffed with a hint of amusement.

“Sorry. Just – _force_ where have you been hiding that? You’re huge.” Came her stunned explanation.

Neyo grew atypically smug as he responded with a sarcastically uttered questioning affirmative again, though secretly, he was enjoying the attention. “Can I join you now?” He asked with the same dry tone and she nodded through a lopsided grin in response.

He edged over her, letting his granite cock brush over her thigh as he settled her to lie under his frame. He groaned harshly at the contact and the way her breasts felt pressed up against his chest. However, he soon grunted in confusion when she twisted beneath him and leant half out of the bunk, under his arm to reach inside her bedside draw and pulled out a tiny picture frame.

“Don’t judge me” she laughed showing it to him.

In the place of a picture was a piece of flimsi - the words _‘Break in case of emergency’_ scrawled in multi-coloured ink, below it, a singular bio sheath had been taped in place. There was even a small toffee hammer attached to the outside of the frame with a piece of string. He couldn’t help but snort and she gave him a sheepish look before working the back off the frame and pulling out the package to hand to him.

“It was a birthday gift.” She giggled, though she reached forward to keep pumping his cock as he worked the package open hurriedly, ceasing her motions only to let him roll the sheath down his shaft.

“Thoughtful friend.” He replied, already kissing his way along her neck and running his fingers through her soaking heat once more.

“Very thoughtful.” She echoed, though it trailed off into a gasp with his motions.

Neyo groaned again as he gathered her slick and brought it to coat his covered cock. He rose on his knees and dragged her by the hips to rest her lower body over them, keeping his gaze firmly fixed to hers, he brought his tip to push at her entrance. Registering nothing but the fieriest desire from her bright, glassy eyes, he slowly pulled her closer; sinking into her perfect warmth and hissing in blissed relief.

_Shit. Kriffing, fucking shit!_

He wasn’t going to last long like this, she felt amazing, she was so fucking tight and squeezing so well around him. Guiltily, he registered her wince at his size so he leaned over their bodies to kiss her reassuringly; using a tenderness that still astounded even himself. She hummed into his kiss and after a few moments, rocked her hips forward - stabilising herself on the arms that gripped her. He reciprocated by thrusting shallowly until he felt her relaxing around him, only then picking up his pace. When she was able to meet the pace of his thrusts he began drawing himself further out with each motion, slamming back impossibly harder. He slipped out accidentally twice as they were finding their rhythm together, but he squashed all awkwardness by taking the opportunity to kiss her deeply before guiding himself back to her heat.

Their steady breaths harmonised as hers rose to pleasured gasps and his to rough grunts, at this rate, she couldn’t keep up anymore; growing boneless as he took control. His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, one occasionally releasing her to clutch a breast. Her hands alternated between griping his wrists to balance herself and running them up and down his arms – she couldn’t reach past his biceps but at least this position meant he could see her face contort in ecstasy.

When he felt himself nearing the edge, he reached down to circle his thumb over her clit and she squeezed her eyes shut, letting her head arch back against the pillows as she emitted a sharp cry. His thrusts grew more frantic as he helped Astrid chase her orgasm – growling in time with her euphoric gasps. His own quiet grunts were interrupted by a fierce snarl when he felt her clamp down on him and shudder her release. He was so close now, so fucking close to coming undone. He leaned forward over her, letting her arms wrap around his neck; her legs gripping his waist. He ravished her mouth with his, letting her drink his hoarse shout as he finished with several severe pistons of his hips.

Neyo crumpled on top her, tightening his limbs around her still shuddering body, and rolled onto his back bringing Astrid to rest above him. She was positively giddy, drunk on sex seemingly as she folded her arms over his chest, resting her chin over her hands to gaze up adoringly into Neyo’s’ face. She brought her thumb to run along his designation tattoo and he presented her with his final smile of the evening, smoothing her hair down with an awkwardness that came from a lifetime lacking affection. She wasn’t put off by him at all though, pressing gentle kisses along his chest as he thumped his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes in serenity. Astrid leant back just enough to pull the blankets over them and settled back onto his chest, his hands splaying her back, pressing her ear against his still rapidly thumping heart.


	9. Stay With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh my goodness I am such a knobhead! I promised two chapters before Christmas and then suddenly it’s the 28th December! Massive apologies to anyone who was waiting for this update! It’s a long one at least and full of sappy fluffy goodness! I’m not going to promise any dates or time frames for the next chapter because I’m an absolute mess of a human in that I wrote chapter 11 before this one and still need to write chapter 10 :| . 
> 
> Notquitecandid = Idiot. 
> 
> Finger’s crossed this was worth the wait and belated Merry Christmas ya filthy animals! 
> 
> Warnings: Swearing, Anxiousness, Minor Angst, Fluff(ish - this is Neyo’s POV after all) and Explicit Smut.

_Month 2, 20 BBY_

It’s funny, how certain memories long forgotten can resurface at specific moments; as if they knew they were suddenly needed. Once when he was a cadet, barely four years old – literally at least – he was closer to eight, maybe ten if you took mentality and physicality into account, Neyo and Gree had spoken at length about the afterlife. Well, not exactly. Neyo had been trying to enjoy his morning bowl of de-hydrated grains and bantha-milk before the first lesson of the day, whilst Gree regurgitated every piece of obscure alien philosophy he’d found that week.

Gree had done that often, probably still does to be fair. There was nothing the Senior Commander of the Elite Corps loved more than researching shite and then presenting it to some poor unsuspecting victim. That day, it had been Neyo who was the victim and the topic was the afterlife of all things. Gree was trying to make a point about the different races of the galaxy being more alike than they realised; despite monumental cultural differences – almost all civilisations believed in a destined supernatural, post-mortem utopia. A heaven, a paradise.

Neyo had scoffed at that, allowing a trickle of milk to escape the corner of his mouth and dribble down his chin – the wastefulness of such an action barely registering within the young cadet. There was no paradise for clones, no better world. They were made for _this_ world, for one purpose. Combat. They aren’t like other sentients and even if there were, the idea of a perfect world separate from their own was wishful thinking at best. Nothing could and ever would provide complete contentment. It’s an impossibility. He’d told Gree as much as he scrubbed at his face, and Gree had simply said that surely so many civilisations can’t have the wrong idea. That there’s no harm in hoping either, no harming in abiding by ethics; whatever they were to the individual.

Neyo would still consider himself a cynic in that regard; he didn’t believe in any otherworld, good _or_ bad but, he did make sure he was the best soldier he could be. Without following any established creed of moral perfectionism, he would consider himself a principled person. There is no beautiful place for him, no dreamland or state of perpetual bliss and everlasting joy waiting for him. It seems illogical to him that such a thing should exist in the first place, it would do no good to fantasise about life after death when there was so much to do in this life. And to be honest, Neyo couldn’t envision anything making anyone as happy as Gree’s research into devotions suggested. 

Yet at this moment, with Astrid lying over his chest and her soft breaths cascading steadily against his skin, Neyo could feel a contentment he hadn’t ever experienced wash over him.

This was his heaven.

They’d only peaked together a few minutes ago but, the weight of her body rising and falling above him with each breath was slowing to an even enough pace to suggest she was close to sleep. He was at ease, knowing she was in his arms – tucked away safely and closer than he ever dreamed he would get to her.

It lasted only a few minutes.

All too soon the comfort of Astrid’s embrace melted at the edges, apprehension seeping into the cracks. He was cosy and warm, just below the point of uncomfortably hot but, he felt agitated – he didn’t expect to sleep here; it was too risky and while he found himself coming to adore Astrid more and more with each day that he knew her – lying in someone’s arms was entirely new. It was bliss, he felt complete with her in his hold but, his skin was unaccustomed to touch for the sake of touch.

Neyo had hoped earlier this evening that in confessing his feelings to Astrid, the conflict she had conjured within his own mind would end. Now, he realised just how out of his depth he was – he wanted to be good for her, to learn for her and be with her but this was new. This was the longest he’d ever stayed after sex, his first cuddle in fact. It’s almost as though his skin is on the cusp of an ich; as though he had to move. He felt useless, lying here and doing nothing.

He allowed his palm to drift up and down her bare back several more times before using his other hand at her hip to raise her up, enough for him to ease his softening length from her warmth with a muted grunt and leave the cocoon of blankets she had built around them both - tucking them up to her shoulders as he left the bed.

Neyo regretted parting from Astrid’s arms the second the chilled air of her room hit him, rendering his chest cold and empty. Sitting on the edge of her mattress, he carefully pulled the bio sheath from his now limp cock and tied a knot in the edge – standing to deposit it in a waste-bin and locate his greys.

“Where are you going?” She sleepily inquired from behind him.

Neyo turned at the sound of her voice, pulling his lower blacks over his greys and wincing at her saddened face. She looked so fucking beautiful with her hair a mess and eyes heavy with exhaustion. Several purple bruises covered her neck and collar bones from where they peaked above the blanket clutched to her chest. He didn’t know whether he should feel proud or guilty at the marks he’d left on her flawless skin. He does feel shame at the sadness he’s caused though, needing to rectify it, he answered quickly.

“Back to my quarters.” He’d answered nonchalantly, as if his casualness would fix whatever he’d done to make her sad. 

“So that’s it?” She had tried to sound blunt, as matter of fact as he always did but the tear that fell from her right eye and the way her voice broke on the last word revealed the damage he was inadvertently causing.

_No! Fuck no. Of course not._

Shit he’d fucked up royally here, still without visually indicating he’d registered her upset, he responded like the uncaring _d_ _i’kut_ he was. “No.”

“Then what?!” Astrid choked through a whispered shout, gesturing between him and the door, looking baffled and distraught all at once.

_Neyo you’re a kriffing dick._

Fuck. He’d fucking warned her about this, he was incapable of doing right by her and it was selfish to try – he didn’t actually know himself why he felt as though he had to leave. He’d realised that as soon as he left her perfect embrace.

He just – he’d never stayed before, had no reason too. Like a _shebs_ he hadn’t realised it was expected that he did and now, he couldn’t stop his _di’kut, kriffing_ mouth from shattering her joy with his ignorance.

“We…you know…finished, so I thought it best I head back now.” Neyo tried, really tried not to sound so uncaring and as detached as always but his honesty – coupled with his ever motionless face made him seem more taciturn than ever. 

He’d retreated. All the smiles and happiness she’d dragged out of him were disappearing behind his own ineptness.

The emotion he’d concealed came crashing back in sharp, icey waves of guilt however when he looked into her horrified eyes. The tears were flowing freely down her face in gushes now as she gaped at him in disbelief. “I..I thought we…”

_Shit. Shitting shit, shit!_

“Fuck Astrid, I’m so sorry.” He reacted quickly this time, rushing to kneel by the bed and lift her chin to meet his gaze, panic at the repercussions of his own actions marring his face and voice.

She looked so confused, like she was debating slapping him or hugging him and her breaths were heavily stunted as she waited for him to explain himself. He brushed her tears with his thumbs, burning with disgrace at his lack of care and rested his face in the crook of her neck before uttering. “I warned you I was shit at this.”

“You did.” She huffed out, a small ray of sun breaking through the storm as she smiled tenderly and ran her fingers over his bedhead. “Come here, you absolute sod.”

Astrid really did have the patience of a saint Neyo mused, mumbling apologies and comforts into her neck as she dragged him over her body to lie down in encircled limbs. He explained himself as best he could, how he didn’t know how to hold someone, be held, that he was blunt and reserved by nature but he could try not to be for her.

“I don’t want you to change yourself for me. I like _you_ because you’re _you_. If we’re going to make a go of this, we learn these things together. You need to show me how to be with you as well Neyo.” Astrid had spoken against his forehead, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as if to cement her words.

“You’re perfect.” Was all Neyo could formulate.

She snorted in modest disbelief. It was cute, even though she was wrong.

[Break]

When her chrono finally beeped at five am, it really was time to leave. Neyo debated snoozing it for the first time in his life for the sake of an extra twenty minutes with Astrid in his arms but, any chance of making his way back to his own quarters undetected would be forfeit. As if sensing his thoughts, Astrid grumbled a good morning into his neck, her eyelashes tickling his skin as they fluttered open. She manoeuvred herself off of him and nestled her body in the space between the wall and his side, though she still spooned his arm, face pressed against his shoulder. 

“What time do you have to be on duty?” She asked, voice groggy with sleep. Neyo rubbed his eyes before rolling on his side to face her, meeting the lazy smile adoring her sweet face. The bed was cramped, never meant for two but, it afforded him the rationale to pull himself closer to her body and let his hand rest against her back.

“Seven-thirty.” Wincing at the way his own voice croaked before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “What about you?”

“Eight. I normally get up in about fifteen minutes time.”

_Fifteen minutes. He could skip his circuits for one morning._

Neyo didn’t respond beyond a single huff in acknowledgement and began trailing kisses up her neck, rolling Astrid onto her back and skimming his hand up and down her side. How the actual _karking hell_ was he supposed to leave this bed now and possibly work a full rotation? Even when he does eventually drag himself to the deck there’s no way he’ll be able to focus, not knowing this is what he would be missing.

Her breath hitched as he engulfed her breast in his hot palm, dragging a calloused thumb over her rosy nipple. However, when he heaved his lips from her neck to her mouth, she jerked her head away. Immediately Neyo stopped, moving his hand to her waist instead and searched her face for any indication of what he’d done wrong this time.

Astrid was smiling though and she sheepishly giggled as she pushed against his shoulders lightly, making him lie down again. “Morning breath.”

Neyo rolled his eyes. “I don’t mind.”

“I do!” Astrid retorted, though the humour in her voice never left. It was soon replaced by sharp intake of breath however, as Neyo moved above her again, latching his mouth to her breast - mumbling how he would kiss her somewhere else then against her skin.

She relaxed into his hold again instantly, running her fingers through his dishevelled hair and across his shoulders. Neyo had just kissed his way towards her other breast, hand trailing south when the chrono beeped a second time.

_Bastard thing._

Astrid mimicked his thoughts perfectly with a frustrated groan as he released her, swearing aloud this time at the interruption.

“Go on, I’ll let you use the ‘fresher first.” She promised with a teasing shove.

“You just want to look at my ass.” Neyo grunted without any lilt to his signature monotone as he heaved himself up from her nest of blankets.

Astrid laughed adorably at his dry humour like she always did, and he grinned at her over his shoulder. She truly is gorgeous, _his_ perfect girl.

“It is a nice ass to be fair Neyo.” She gestured at the way his lower blacks clung to his form, playing along with his accusations but failing to stay coy; her blinding smile dazzling him with an openness that left him stunned. If his crooked grin and shit humour really awarded him with that response - he’d happily try doing it more often around her.

“You should see my brother’s.” Neyo deadpanned as he made his way towards the ‘fresher, smiling to himself at her answering snicker into her pillow as the door closed behind him. It was a shit joke he mused to himself, squinting against the harsh auto light, but he was blessed with her easy sense of humour at least.

He could hear her moving around the room behind him as he relieved himself, a mundane task made ridiculously difficult when his dick was still half hard. He’d never peed with a woman so close by before and the volume of the flush when he activated it, was embarrassingly loud. There was no way she wouldn’t hear it through her bedroom wall and…this is fucking ridiculous. Is he really so infatuated that he was nervous about her acknowledging that he used the bathroom? Yes, yes he was.

_Pathetic._

Astrid and her roommate kept their shared bathroom clean except, just about every surface was covered with various bottles and containers. It was much less chaotic than Astrid’s sleeping space but, if the tiles were any colour other than their harsh white it would have been a close rival. It took more time than Neyo is willing to admit to work out which bottle was body wash when he stepped under the water of her cubicle, and he was instantly confused again by its gritty texture – definitely can’t use this on his hair too then. To be fair it scratched his skin pleasantly as he scrubbed, though he’d have to use half a bottle of anti-perspirant when he made his way back to his quarters, lest his troopers find him smelling of sweetened citrus and shea butter – whatever the _kark_ that is.

He finally located some hair wash, with a similarly ridiculous scent, and was just stepping out of the cubicle when Astrid knocked on the door. 

When he opened it for her she was armed with a worn, faded khaki towel that may have once been soft but the fibres had been long exhausted. She must have noticed his silent observations for she was soon babbling in that syrupy inflection of hers that it was her biggest one, there was a softer towel hanging up but it was probably still damp.

Adorable as it was, he didn’t quite enjoy being the cause of her flustering and quickly answered with what he hoped was reassurance. “It’s fine.” _Shit_ that was more of a bark. “Thanks.”

“The simplest things make you so serious, sometimes I feel like I can hear the gears turning in your head.” Astrid answered, a shy smile crossing her features to accompany the rhythm in her honeyed voice. “It’s a good thing! Means you’re observant.” She quickly added, seemingly taking the furrow in Neyo’s brow to suspect he saw her musing as criticism.

“It’s not unsettling?” He teased with a wink, enjoying the blush that tinted her pale cheeks rose as he completed the action.

“It was at first, not now – just try not to glare holes into my towel please.” She laughed before pushing past him with a playful nudge.

Neyo huffed a laugh back as he wrapped the towel around himself, he should really be making a move now but, he couldn’t quite help leaning against the wall of the ‘fresher and observe Astrid awhile longer.

He still felt fluttery from last night, and this morning, he could definitely believe it happened – his whereabouts was evidence enough yet, he was still in awe of her. She looked breathtakingly beautiful; sleep attire haphazardly thrown back on, along with her glasses and hair pulled into a messy bun. Astrid made up and groomed to within an inch of her life as normal was one thing but this, this was just so – _domestic._ Last night he felt intrusive against her serenity but, now he just felt right, like he could finish each day with this sight and start each morning the same.

It wasn’t possible. Not at all. However, he could simultaneously dream of it and hate every _natborn_ that took these moments for granted all he wanted.

Astrid spitting toothpaste into the sink suddenly reminded him of his own stale breath, and the need to brush his teeth as soon as he returned to his own quarters. With a silent exhale, Neyo shoved himself from the wall and made his way back to Astrid’s offensively decorated room once more.

The bed was made neatly now but still rendered chaotic by the clashing colours and patterns. He dried and dressed quickly, only pausing to cringe as he was forced to turn his grey undershorts inside out and wear them again. She’d folded his blacks when she’d made the bed apparently, the small act of care causing yet another flutter to tap against his sternum.

Astrid stepped out of the fresher again as he was fastening his boots and grieves, glasses in hand. She’d had them on and off a few times now, shedding them as soon as he entered her room last night actually, and he wondered the extent to which they aided her. Some of the other civvies on board wore them, mostly the older ones but he’d never paid any heed. With Astrid, he found he wanted to know every detail about her – well, the few left that WAC hadn’t regurgitated back to him.

“I never see you wearing those on shift.” Neyo had spoken before he realised he was musing aloud. His signature monotone rendering the observation more accusational than questioning.

_Sweet_ Astrid though, growing more accustomed to his blunt roughness faster than anyone just dropped her gaze shyly before tipping her head up at him again, a slither of sunshine escaping her smile. “Contacts. They’re more practical and I…well, I’m not too fond of how I look with them on to be honest.”

_You’re fucking gorgeous you silly girl._

“Fuck off.” He answered instantly, though Neyo quickly remembered he wasn’t talking to one of his brothers as her eyebrows shot to her forehead. “I..I mean, you still look…good with them on, sorry.”

She laughed at that with a thanks and an amused shake of her head, Neyo allowed an apologetic smile to cross his features and though it made her laugh more, he still cursed himself for the blunder. He also cursed himself for stuttering like a nervous teen, the icy façade he’d spent his life generating was thawing whenever she was near. Neyo imagined that it might seem like a slow process to her, but he silently wished she appreciated just how firmly she had cemented herself within his life.

“They help me see anyway I suppose.”

_What? Oh right, glasses._

“You can’t see without them?” Neyo probably sounded more surprised at that than she was used to, her soft features looking back at him in amusement. Biological impairments were never something a clone had to worry about, shortened lifespan and tens of millions of identical brothers aside that is. It was easy to forget that most species could be born without perfect vision, hearing or anything really. He would never be as cold to as to cast judgement for it but in this moment he did feel slightly ignorant.

“I’m hopeless.” She laughed breathily, he was about to object when she interrupted. “I have terrible night vision anyway with being half Hapan but, the fact I can barely see from one end of this room to the other is all me; can’t blame mam’a for that one.”

“Could you see me last night?” Neyo asked before he could hide the slight twinge of hopefulness in his voice, if she’d spent her first night with him partially blind out of vanity - he’d be devastated. That was another new sensation, he normally didn’t give two shits what his fucks saw and felt in the moment. Then again, Astrid wasn’t just a fuck.

“I could. You were right next to me. I can see you now but if you stood by the door in the hallway you’d be a handsome blur.”

_Thank kriff…don’t you dare blush at the fact she called you handsome. Fuck._

Neyo quirked his lips at that and fastened the last of his plates before standing, his damp hair flopping annoyingly in front of his eyes. Glancing back at the chrono, he could see there was only an hour before he was due in the mess and it was best that he headed off. Reluctantly he told Astrid as much and she simply smiled through a nod before reaching up to him, pressing a gentle peck against his lips and brushing his hair back.

It was odd, being touched by a woman and knowing that it wouldn’t lead anywhere right now. He stiffened at Astrid’s caress despite enjoying it, and he realised that affection for the sake of affection was something he’d need to get used to. Reciprocating was even more daunting but finding ways to be close to Astrid wouldn’t take much effort; he was already growing addicted.

“Can I see you again tonight?” He spoke against her mouth as they parted, the minty sweetness of her breath already beckoning him back with an insistence that tested every ounce of his loyalty to the GAR.

“Of course.”

[Break]

The rest of Neyo’s day fucking dragged with the pace of a Felucian snail. It pissed him off actually, he’d returned to his quarters and stripped of his armour to find a fresh set of blacks while his schedule loaded. As Neyo had emerged from his ‘fresher with clean kegs and recently scrubbed teeth he had actually groaned aloud at the timetable displayed on his datapad.

It was his out of armour rotation. No patrols, no weapons or transport testing, no drills. Neyo’s day would consist of deck observation, scouring reconnaissance reports and remaining on standby for incoming transmissions; it was glorified admin at best.

After the first hour, Neyo swore he could actually see time steadily being dragged along on the back of one of those snails. He didn’t even have any briefs or meetings to attend in order to break up his day and with no need to go into the hanger, he had no excuse to drag WAC up to the bridge with him for company.

Initially, Neyo had kept himself sane with the memories of this morning but, as those faded into the oppressive blandness of the day, his imagination took over and well…unless he wanted to spend the rest of his shift hiding the tent in his trousers he needed to stop those thoughts.

It was impossible to stop himself from thinking of Astrid though, especially when the day was proving so monotonous. He hated these rotations – they were a waste of time and in his opinion; unbefitting of commanders.

Nevertheless, he did find some interesting landmarks noted in an old report from the Battle of Dantooine. Ponds had composed it before his death and honestly the potential for a new Republic base there was immense. It was an outer rim planet so naturally it would provide a foothold into keeping an eye on some of the _wilder_ regions of the Galaxy and, should another attack occur, the dense forestry of the planet’s surface would provide excellent cover for an established force.

Neyo had begun compiling a report to present to General Gallia almost immediately, if she could convince the Council of the planet’s potential he might get some actual, useful work done – if he was lucky there might even be some skirmishes to put down. However, without the opportunity to scout the planet surface and gather some more up to date intel, his report writing barely took up forty-five minutes.

Despite being a reconnaissance specialist and thus, often separate from the more exciting encounters the war had to offer, it was very rare for Neyo to be doing nothing. Although Bacara liked to tease him for it, the marine enduring some of the best and worst skirmishes that the Separatists could throw at them, Neyo and the 91st crawling through dead space slow enough to grow moss was still an atypical occurrence. He wasn’t doing nothing per say, and only yesterday had he almost been blasted from one end of the galaxy to the other but, right now he just needed something other than his datapad to expel all of his energy into. Hopefully, they’d reach their next destination soon and he could spend his next shift patrolling on his BARC.

It took all Neyo’s willpower and more not to smash his face against the holomap on the bridge when he checked the time again, the static numbers mocking him with their sluggish movements.

[Break]

Finally, Neyo’s shift ended. He’d managed to catch Gallia before she met with the Jedi Council and the Chancellor, who himself approved the operation to scout Dantooine. The wrinkly old bastard had however insisted that the 91st retain their current position for at least the remainder of the calendar month. Through Gallia’s respectful paraphrasing of the instructions, Neyo could only assume that the Chancellor had sprouted his usual speech surrounding uncertain times and the need to be vigilant while doing nothing and so on.

He shouldn’t think such things about the Chancellor truthfully, politics meant nothing to Neyo but protecting the Republic is Neyo’s duty; and the Chancellor is the Republic.

However, his frustration soon dwindled as Neyo exited the bridge, and he reminded himself it was late enough that Astrid should have finished her shift. Furthermore, she had confirmed to him earlier that her roommate would be working the night rotation again.

[Break]

The door to Astrid’s shared room beckoned him like a beacon as he waited for her to answer his purposeful knock, he didn’t hesitate like last time but his stomach still somersaulted with a sickening combination of nerves and anticipation. Luckily for him, Neyo’s natural scowl betrayed nothing.

When Astrid answered the door and practically dragged him inside, she exalted a giddiness that caused the room to glow and spin as though it was being charged like a electro-proton. Neyo’s insides had stilled, then warmed with the realisation that she had missed him just as much as he had missed her today.

He shouldn’t celebrate a single ounce of her discomfort but, the selfish part of him that allowed him to pursue her in the first place was aggrandised by the idea of her pining for him throughout the day. Any indication of Astrid’s fondness for him gave Neyo a special brand of confidence and reassurance that he didn’t know he was lacking; it was quickly rendering him gluttonous.

Nonetheless, his only outward portrayal of this was a cheeky grin as Astrid practically bounced back and led him to sit at the durasteel seat at her desk. She’d removed her shoes and let her hair down but, was still dressed in her uniformed jumpsuit and her make-up was immaculate. Astrid plonked herself up on the desk and let her feet rest to the side of his chair as she grinned at him. She had so much energy right now Neyo couldn’t help but be reminded of when he was a cadet, and one of their combat trainers had smuggled in a bag of blumfruit candies. Ponds had had such a sugar rush that he literally ran in circles till he passed out.

Hilarious as it was to observe the reprimand, and the teasing after – it was a bittersweet memory now. Though, he couldn’t help but recount the story to Astrid’s gleaming face, she’d laughed, holding her sides as though they would split – and consequently demanded he’d tell her more stories about his brothers.

“It’s odd.” She’d voiced after he had told her of Wolffe and the _Buir_ incident. “Despite being clones, you look nothing like Ponds – I mean you do look like him…obviously but, he’d always tell me stories about campaigns, training and your brothers – and even though this reminds me of him in the best way. You’re so different, you could shave your head and cover your tattoo and I could tell you apart a mile off.”

Astrid looked unsure then, as if she was worried she had offended him - truthfully if any other civvie had said such a thing he might have been but, her genuine openness and the affection with which she looked at him now he couldn’t help but bask in how _human_ he actually felt around her.

At some point during his story telling, Neyo had pulled Astrid’s dangling feet into his lap and he was examining the lilac polish on her toes with curiosity when she spoke again. “You look nice by the way.”

“Nice?” The snarkiness creeping into his answer like a bad reflex and his nose scrunched in confusion.

“Out of armour, you look good in a suit…quite dapper actually.” She was giggling again now, Astrid was getting bolder around him, as she should – he was hers as much as she was his now but, she still displayed signs of nervousness. He couldn’t blame her, even though she wasn’t a combatant, this was technically his cruiser and he did hold authority over her – though he would never exercise that in their relationship.

“Dapper?” He probed again, gentler but still slightly caustic, with a questioning brow.

“Yeah, you look…kind of sexy.” Her face was growing visibly redder and she ducked her head slightly at the last bit, he stroked her calf through her jumpsuit pants.

He hated the suit for what it represented. It meant a boring shift and the shirts were all slightly too tight on the clones – one of many GAR oversights regarding clone comfort. They were stuffy and frivolous really, there was no reason why he couldn’t work his duller shifts in armour or even just his blacks but, being called sexy was kind of nice. Made forward by the compliment, Neyo found his cocky side.

“I’d say the same of you now but I kind of preferred you in those little shorts.” Neyo would be wincing if he could see himself now, the cheesy line sounding more sleazy than seductive. Astrid however, reacted with a non-teasing, breathless laugh and grew even redder before giving her own comeback.

“Want me to put them on?” The accompanying flash of teeth contrasting against her comely flushed skin.

“Or we could just take this off?” Neyo whispered as he leaned forward to toy with the zipper at the front of her mechanics suit. The air had suddenly grown dense and his breath quickened with the change of atmosphere. Neyo began to nuzzle against Astrid’s slender neck, breathing in her sweet scent. When he felt her nod, he began placing open mouthed kisses against the skin below her jaw as he guided the zipper down.

With a gentle push, Astrid separated herself from Neyo and hopped down from her desk to push the jumpsuit off of her body – he’d parted it down to her navel and the sliver of pearly flesh glowed like a teasing torch. Once Astrid had stepped out of the shapeless garment, leaving her in a fitted black undershirt and a pair of pastel pink underpants, Neyo pulled her into his lap and kissed her mouth with an insatiable hunger.

_Kark._ He’d work that shitty, aimless shift every day for the rest of his life if it meant he could finish it like this. Nothing would ever surpass the feeling of _his_ girl sitting in his lap, her core pressed against his; straining against the thin fabric between them. Astrid’s hands ran through Neyo’s hair with fervour and _kriff_ it, she could mess it up as much as she wanted when she scratched his scalp like that.

Neyo kept one hand firmly on her sharp hipbone, kneading the soft flesh of her upper thigh as far as his fingers could reach while he dragged her undershirt up her back. Astrid only tore her mouth away from where she nibbled his ear long enough to pull the offending fabric over her head. Shirt thrown aside she resumed her actions, sending shivers down his rigid spine, and started untucking his shirt from his belt.

Neyo was desperately trying to locate the hooks to Astrid’s bra as he ran his hand up and down her back. It looked good on her – lacy and a generous amount of cleavage spilling over the cups but, he’d much prefer it off of her. He also wasn’t a fan of the 501st blue colouring the fabric, not that she would know but still.

When his second hand joined his first and he still found nothing Neyo grunted his frustration into her shoulder. This was a new problem, never before had he struggled to undress a woman and he couldn’t find any nerves to blame this on either. Astrid snorted at his reaction goofily and pulled back with a lopsided grin to take in Neyo’s surly expression, her teasing smile only darkened his pout further. Though he did retaliate by groping her small breasts through the thin lace stretched over them, running his thumbs over her hardened nipples once before kneading them again.

“Take it off.” He growled in response to her sharp gasp, his teeth clenching in embarrassed, heated frustration.

Astrid’s lingering smirk evaporated into breathless giggles, though not mocking, as she pushed his hands to her waist and parted her infuriating, cerulean bra via a central clasp at the front.

_Hot._

All anger towards the 501st colours dissipated as Astrid dropped the fabric to the floor and honoured Neyo with the sight of her bare breasts again – somehow even lovelier then when he’d seen them last.

_Take that Rex! Kriff! Neyo, do not think of that blond shithead in blue now._

He didn’t trust his coarse vocabulary enough to voice it aloud but, Neyo fucking loved those tits - they fit so perfectly in his hands; hands that could manipulate them to draw the best possible noises from her and fuck if they weren’t just brilliant to look at.

He groaned harshly into her mouth when his next firm squeeze had Astrid’s hips rocking her core against his erection, she parted from him at the action and murmured something shyly and inaudible into his neck.

“What?” Neyo gasped, reluctantly guiding her chin up so he could hear her unmuffled, only to be answered with another nervous mumble and tip of her head.

“Once more." Sentences short and clipped as per but with much more patience than when addressing his men.

If Astrid blushed any harder she’d be a blumfruit candy herself, her face was so rosy and hot that he’d be concerned if he weren’t so smugly sure of being the cause. “Can I go down on you?” She answered finally, timid but at least he could hear it.

_Yes! Fucking yes, yes!...yes please, yes.”_

_Karking_ God’s above yes she could but, really? He wasn’t sure he’d be able to control himself if she did, he wouldn’t last long at all like this – then again they didn’t have any more sheaths between them. Fuck! He’d forgotten that - he wanted to be inside her again so badly he’d completely neglected to remember Astrid had only one, even then it had been a novelty gift and he certainly didn’t have any aboard himself.

Astrid looked flustered and she squirmed with self-consciousness in his lap like she’d said the wrong thing, she most certainly had not though, Neyo just needed time to respond without sounding like a desperate maniac. Reasoning against her request that if he indulged her, he would more than make it up to her after he surrendered.

“Yes.” He breathed, the gentlest he’d sounded all night and honestly it was more out of shocking need than effort that his voice left his mouth so lightly. 

Time seemed to slow after Astrid offered him a soft, timid smile. He straightened in his seat as she dismounted and sank to her knees, kissing his clothed knee and working on his belt and trousers.

Neyo really had to control his breathing now, he didn’t want to be huffing and lumbering above her like a giant brute, and he forced his body into an impossible rigidness to avoid rutting his hips into her hand as she released his length from his pants. Once he’d helped her pull them below his ass, he had no idea what to do with his own hands – grabbing her head would be harsh and probably too demanding and… _karking hells_!

All logical thought shot out of Neyo’s skull like a blaster wound as Astrid’s tongue slowly caressed him from base to tip, finishing with a gentle kiss to the head. She balanced herself with one hand on his taunt thigh and gripped his shaft with the other as she repeated the action, causing him to tip his head back against the chair. She did this once more before taking the tip in her mouth and sucking lightly. He parted his lips in a silent gasp of bliss, soon having to clench the bottom lip between his teeth as she swirled her tongue around him.

He could die now, he could honest to shit die now and not give two fucks – blasphemy be dammed this was heaven. When Astrid took him further in and began bobbing her head, Neyo’s eyes shot open against the harsh steel of her ceiling and gritted out a moan, whispering harshly and she speeded up her movements. “Fuck. _Kriff_ Astrid.”

She answered with a questioning hum, the sensation vibrating around his cock and causing him to moan again. He should be humiliated, mortified by the effect she was having on him right now yet, when Neyo dared lower his gaze to watch her pretty little mouth take him even further, he couldn’t find any fucks to give if that sight was his reward. He reached out to softly stroke her hair, her eyes opened to meet his and enough breath left his body for him to swear he _did_ die for a second.

All too soon Astrid released him from her perfect, hot mouth to pepper kisses along the bare flesh of his upper thighs and the base of his cock before pressing a small kiss to his wrist where it gripped her glossy curls– realising that he must have subconsciously tightened his hold as she literally blew his mind away.

“This okay?” She panted, breath strained but nowhere near as shattered as his wheezing answer.

“Yeah.”

Watching her smile tenderly in response before dipping her head again, Neyo tensed his thighs in anticipation. His last remaining shards of composure were crushed into dust as she briefly pulled one of his balls into her mouth, then released it to resume her ministrations on his dick. The hand not steadying herself wrapped around him and pumped quickly where her mouth couldn’t reach.

Neyo’s head snapped back again and thumped against the seat as he snarled lowly through clenched teeth.

She was so amazing, _his_ girl, perfect and wonderful and incomprehensibly flawless. He didn’t want this to end, much like that first night, his mouth parted with another low huff and he tightened his hold on her hair. He strained not to grip so hard as to hold her in place and hoped she would read his action as affectionate praise where his words failed him.

She briefly moved the hand at his leg to play with the wiry dark hairs at his base before massaging his balls, alternating between each as her mouth and other hand continued to stimulate his cock. When she drew back to suck and lap attention at his tip once more, her hand speeding up, he felt his abdominals tense with his impending release.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

“Astrid…I…I’m going to…” He rasped out a warning, silently praying that she wouldn’t stop. She hummed once more in answer and squeezed his leg in reassurance as she took him as far into her mouth as she could. With as few as three quick bobs of her magic mouth, Neyo erupted onto Astrid’s tongue with a brutal growl followed by breathless praise. He felt her gag slightly as she caught and swallowed his release, his smugness coupled with slight concern but when she pulled away to beam up at him she was grinning with pride.

“Good?” She asked with a pleased tone that could only indicate she knew the answer already.

“Fucking amazing.” Neyo rasped, smoothing down her silky waves where he’d gripped them and cupping her face in both hands. “Perfect, _mesh’la._ ”

The unexpected pet name escaped him without plan but with certainty. There was no time for her to request a translation though as immediately, Neyo was dragging her flushed, almost naked body back to his, causing her to squeak out a startled giggle as he carried her to her bunk. He was fully intent on paying her back with vigour, plus interest.


	10. Dantooine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve reached double digits! This is the last chapter of pure fluff before the plot begins to shape again and chapter 11 will probably be where I start setting up some angst unfortunately.  
> I do hope people enjoy this one though, it’s sweet, goofy and full of tropes. Also, spot the Twilight reference XD. 
> 
> Warnings: Swearing, Anxiousness, Fluff, Cheese, Sexual References.

Chapter 10: Dantooine

Month 3, 20 BBY

Neyo does not often feel embarrassed, it simply isn’t his style and even if he were to allow himself the luxury of free expression; his every movement was so meticulously orchestrated and tested that things rarely tended to subvert his expectations.  
However, as he ripped the top sheet from his bunk and stuffed it into his field pack, alongside a bottle of Alderaanian wine he’d smuggled aboard and a caf mug, he couldn’t quite quell the colour grazing his cheekbones.

Truthfully, he is anxious in this moment.

He knows he isn’t good enough, this is supposed to be him proving otherwise and in his head it seemed like a plausible plan – success fairly guaranteed. Yet, now that execution was imminent, his tactics scream nothing but failure. 

Nothing about this screamed romance. In all fairness, nothing about Neyo screamed romance either, aside his manufactured prowess, he could boast of few redeemable qualities. Right now, staring at the bleak, bashed up assortment of items peaking from his open pack, all Neyo has is hope. Hope that she would appreciate the effort, and even calling that minimal was generous of him.

Astrid had already told him that she loved him, that he was good enough, more than she ever wanted in this entire world but, he still feels like a facsimile of the ideal partner; an imposter.

[Break]

They had been lying in her bunk, side by side with her goofy grin facing his satisfied smirk. They were still in the afterglow, moments before their bodies had been harmonising in an intrinsic bliss and reverence he still felt unworthy of. Though, honest-to-kark they needed to find some sheaths soon so that he could have her properly once more.

She’d interrupted his longing thoughts by reaching to pull the brighter of her scratchy blankets over them and he’d finally voiced his aversion to the nauseating colour scheme. “This really is hideous Astrid.” He’d spoke with a grimace, his hand leaving the small of her back to rub the edge of it between his thumb and forefinger.

“My mother made me this!” Astrid had exclaimed, shooting up to sit and look down at him – clutching the offending rag to her chest. Not realising that her offence was mock, he’d blanched – uncharacteristically stuttering as he tried to find the words to right his blunder – until she’d dissolved into laughter.

Taking pity on his bewildered expression, Astrid had continued through her wicked glee. “She said the exact same thing when she gave me it but, she knew I’d like the colours.”

Completely and utterly unamused, okay maybe a tiny bit amused, with her jested affront – Neyo pouted. Though, spurred on by her mirth, he nipped at her sides until her giggles made her breathless; infectious enough that he chuckled with her.

“How did she make it?” He’d asked when they recovered, genuinely curious from having not experienced art or craft much at all in his life - something so simple to her; entirely lost on him.

Astrid looked confused for a second, then remembered his upbringing. “She knitted it.”

“K-knitted.” Neyo remembered probing further, frowning openly at his own lack of knowledge.

But Astrid just flopped down beside him again, ruffling his hair – she couldn’t get enough of his hair he was beginning to notice, bed head especially. “It’s a bit of a dead art really, you make things – mostly clothing by transferring loops of yarn between needles. She taught me but I’m not as good, I mostly use it for stress relief to be honest.” Astrid had gotten excited as she explained it to him, her hands making the motions she had described in the air as she moved to lay on her back and he realised that he wanted to see her do it for real. Then her face grew slightly sombre, he knew she was close to her mother – a bond he could understand from his relationship with his brothers but also, completely unfamiliar to him as a man with no parents.

He could read her easily, unlike his; her face was an open manual and her homesickness was apparent as she described other artistries to him. Needing to erase any trace of negativity from the face he adored, he distracted her by motioning to the woven hanging above her headboard. It had often caught his eye, the beads and feathers tended to jolt distractingly with any motion - innocent or no, in her compact bunk.

“Did she make this as well?” He’d asked, afraid to touch it properly for it looked so intricate and delicate.

“No, I got it at a market – I had wanted one for years and when I saw it, I couldn’t resist.” She responded, lost in the memory as she looked at it.

“What is it?” It sounded more important than she was letting on and the recon training within him demanded he inquire further, his voice turning somewhat professional again. 

As soon as he’d asked, her cheeks had coloured wonderfully pink and she veiled her face into his shoulder before gazing back up at him sheepishly. “It’s a dream catcher, some indigenous cultures – native to Iridonia weave them to catch bad dreams.” She paused, looking even more flushed before continuing. “I…I don’t really have bad dreams but as a teenager I read a series of holo-books and – well, there’s this guy and he’s head over heels in love with the main character so he makes her one - because she has night terrors…and I just thought it was the sweetest thing ever.”

“Why are you so embarrassed?” He’d laughed at her, well he’d huffed but he was smiling so it counted as a laugh to him.

“Because they’re so cheesy! Honestly they have such a bad rep in literature and they were really heavily popularised at the time – mostly by teenage girls - but they’ll always be a guilty pleasure in a way.” She’d flustered to him, aspect hot with the triviality of it all, and there wasn’t a more endearing sight in the world to Neyo as she continued with her rant. “And the romance feels all wrong now that I’m older, too intense – damaging and possessive; not at all like the way I love you.”

He froze.

She froze.

“Shit…Neyo.” She sounded terrified, completely and utterly mortified. “That…that wasn’t how I was supposed to tell you.”

“You love me?” He’d asked, senseless disbelief suffocating every syllable and he barely registered the fact that it was the first time he’d heard her swear.

“I have for a while.” She fulfilled, literally fulfilled his life with those words. “I know you probably won’t say it back, maybe not ever but I don’t regret saying it because I do – love you that is.”

His heart ruptured, sinew and tissue slinging against his rib cage then pulled back into the correct position by the gravity of her words. She loved him.

How? How could she possibly know him so well? How could she be so completely understanding of his needs? Of his wishes and wants?…Because she was his perfect girl, that’s how.

She was right, he wasn’t ready to say it back; Neyo wouldn’t tell her anything he wasn’t sure of and while she was teaching him everyday what love meant – that didn’t necessarily mean he knew what it was yet. Though he’d been damn close ever since. She deserved nothing but his complete honesty and he wanted her to know how he glowed under her devotion.

“Then never stop saying it.” He’d finalised, leaning down to capture her sweet mouth.

[Break]

He still can’t say it back to her. For every kiss, caress or murmur she graced him with, Neyo would tense. He’d freeze completely sometimes, unable to ignore how his skin would prickle at the foreign sensation against his own will. Most of the time Astrid understood - she knows how his mind works; unaccustomed to care, affection and starved of touch; his reactions were never out of disgust but surprise. With his reassurances, always clipped and absent of dexterity, she could persist and he’d eventually ease into her blissful embrace.

In juxtaposition, there were worse instances. The ones that would never stop haunting him. The times where Astrid would gently reach out to take his hardened palm into her soft fingers and he’d jerk away, his unforgiving reflexives causing her to retreat into herself, and no amount of coaxing and apologies could convince her to relax into his hold this time.

He is improving though. Barely.

Sealing his helmet in place and securing his pack to his shoulders, Neyo blew the remainder of his self-pity out through his vocoder and into the barren sterility of his quarters. Vizard in place but, nevertheless schooling his face into comfortable blankness; he could make his way to the mess safely.

Briskly marching through narrow but, familiar mazes of durasteel, Neyo could feel the guilt of breaking with regulations rolling off of his body and shrieking with enough force to break the sound barrier.

Any troopers, or anyone aboard really, had no reason to question the familiar sight of the Marshall Commander wandering the halls at the late hour. It wasn’t uncommon for Neyo, unable to sleep, to decide to patrol the galleries or work out his excess energy in the training room. Even if he was questioned, his sabacc-face was perfect yet, his spine is inelastic with tension.  
Stepping into the mess, Neyo acknowledged the lone night-deck officer shovelling his grub down through starved exhaustion with a barely there nod. There was always a dried continental section in the canteen but what lay there couldn’t really be called an assortment. Neyo quickly pilfered some crackers; two packs of three, one a sweetened rye and the other merely slightly salted. At least it was something.

Once he’d exited the mess, his steps hastened and he delved into stealthier movements as his whereabouts began to grow more questionable. Finally, he could see the quick-exit ramp and made to descend with weighty, accelerated footsteps.

Outside, the crisp air of Dantooine’s boreal forestry soothed the anxious fire racing through Neyo’s veins. Unclasping his helmet, he greedily gulped the frigid air as though it were nectar, filling his lungs and cooling worries his with glacial relief. Now that he stood out in the open, he could school himself again; relaxing into the freedom offered by wave upon wave of sky-scraping trees, packed into formation like the fish in his least favourite ration can – rank. But, actually beautiful.

Neyo spent most of his time in the air, or at the very least, levitated just above ground level. To be stood still and unable to see even the tips of the forestry that lay before him was an entirely overwhelming sensation. The blinding sun of Spring had long since concealed itself below the jagged treeline, the unforgiving streaks which would highlight every scratch, streak and scuff on his armour now rendered useless by seas of emerald, viridian and sienna.

Situating himself amongst the stacked supply crates and equipment that lay below the ramp, Neyo could lean against the tallest. Arms folding on reflex and right leg raising so that the sole of his boot can touch the surface of the steel behind him, he had provided himself the perfect view of anyone who might descend the wide ramp. 

He’s pretty sure that Astrid had received his note. Positive. She tended to be very particular about the clearing of her work station after each shift, and the scrap of flimsy which he managed to tuck into her toolbelt should not go amiss.

He’d watched her routine enough times to know that once she had finally deposited her work bag into her designated locker, she would check every pocket of her jumpsuit, then belt, a final time before unclipping it from her slight waist and shoving it into her locker; with the finesse of a Womp rat burrowing into it’s den. He’d scold her for scuffing the equipment if it weren’t so fucking adorable.

Anyway. Point is, she’d have seen it.

Flimsy notes had been declared pretty much obsolete decades before either of them had been born/decanted but, a comm would have just invited too many questions. A note better suited the surprise and maybe giving her something handmade would be appreciated. That stars-awful holo-book series she loved, the vid adaptations of which she had since persuaded him to sit through, involved lovers gifting trinkets anyway. It also had a forest.

His note however, was not romantic at all, simply reading:

Outside. Ramp 3. 21:00

He didn’t even bother to sign it, he didn’t need to; his unpractised scrawl would be obviously traced to him. Rough, abrupt, impenetrable.

Fett’s scarred chin; he really is a dick. 

[Break]

Neyo had been waiting for an eternity. Well, he’d waited thirty-five minutes and he had arrived forty-three minutes early.   
Finally, he heard the release hatch, startling several birds and Astrid was making her way down the ramp on unsteady feet. Precipitously, a wave of affection began overpowering Neyo and if he weren’t leaning against the heavy crates, he’d be falling to the dirt. His chest tightened as her eyes, fleeting about unsurely, lastly fell to his figure and a smile erupted over her face; huge and adoring.

He truly is, completely and utterly, fucked.

She’d been on her midday shift which had finished three hours prior, she’d obviously used the ‘fresher between then and now if the cool night breeze wafting the scent of shea and citrus towards him is any indication; so offensive on his own skin but captivating on hers. He could also note, with a dash of happiness, that she hadn’t reapplied her makeup and her brunette curls were left unbound. Instantly, his mind catapulted itself back to that first night after the strategy meeting and if Neyo were capable of swooning he would be doing so. 

She’s just so kriffing lovely. Dressed comfortably in dark leggings and a hand-knitted jumper, striped with every offensive colour that assaulted her awful bedroom, rendering itself even more offensive as it engulfed her already tiny frame – obscuring all shape and hanging so low it could be considered a dress – she could not look more like Astrid. His Astrid.

He’d never had a sense of home, belonging maybe – purpose definitely. But, never home. However, as he drowned in the burning depths of Astrid’s caf-coloured eyes, he found it. His home. Maybe even his life.

Her chirpy greeting interrupted his monologue but, answering was seemingly inadequate now – plus he was unsure as to whether his voice would crack, best not to risk it. Gesturing that she follow, Neyo stomped towards his speeder – yanking off his helmet and throwing it over his shoulder. The sounds of dry palms slapping aimlessly against a shiny, plastoid surface, followed by the dull thump of said plastoid against grassy earth, attacked his ears in response as he straddled his beloved BARC.

Looking down, he allowed himself a chuckle at Astrid’s sheepish face as she gathered the helmet and he patted the seat behind him. With a useless hop, she remained on the ground until he yanked her by the elbow and heaved her into the space behind him. As soon as Astrid’s hands were tight enough that Neyo could feel her pressure through the plastoid, her now helmeted head resting against his back, they sped off into the darkness.

The vibrant hues of sages, olives and moss blended into a glittering blur as they flew under the stars – though Neyo purposefully drove slower than he usually would on patrol. No matter his apprehension, he needed to be sure Astrid wouldn’t drop off of his BARC. He could feel her head move as they drove, no doubt entranced by the forestry with eyes darting excitedly around the landscape.

Dantooine was nothing like Naboo and he could only pray that the pulsating vegetation swaying around them was enough to remind her of the lush flora of her home. He’d better pray presently - for all too soon, he stopped his BARC at the clearing he’d found earlier.

Neyo dismounted with a quick step and turned to watch Astrid drop herself onto the ground beside him, she was able to avoid falling but it was still a droll sight. He took this moment to appreciate her; she looked like a kid playing dress up in his helmet. He’d rather her wear it than him, he knew he wouldn’t crash his BARC but he’d had visions of Astrid plummeting off of the side mid motion since he’d conjured this idea. The helmet completely dwarfed her body and it’s painted, intimidating sneer and imposing reputation dwindled before his eyes as she wiggled her shoulders at him. Neyo barked a laugh at her, striding over and pulling the damn thing from her head – the grass stains from where she’d dropped it as lopsided as the radiant grin she was currently shooting up at him.

Allowing the slightest quirk of his lips, Neyo gripped her shoulders and shoved her gaze towards the landscape.

The past month had both dragged and flown by. There was plenty to keep Neyo busy, even a healthy scattering of skirmishes – though nothing noteworthy. Finally, The Perseverance had reached Dantooine and Neyo almost – almost skipped to his BARC and carried it to a shuttle. Later, after setting up a minute -though not insignificant HQ, an inspection team had reported that there was large enough clearing for the cruiser itself to land.

Yes, landing a Venator-class cruiser anywhere but Coruscant is a ball-ache not worth considering but, after a relatively quiet period, it was a prime opportunity to refuel and search for materials for any minor repairs. Usually Neyo wouldn’t see the potential – things like that could always wait though, it did give him the opportunity to explore the surrounding expanse further while they waited for the small maintenance crew to return. 

Neyo had took a small team of his scout troopers with secure orders to scatter out and comb beyond the explored area for any potential separatist debris. Neyo had set his team off in pairs but chose to take his own route alone. Duty came first yet, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t revel in the chance to speed in and out of the forestry unhindered; it’s probably the closest to freedom he’d ever feel.

He hadn’t been overly impressed with Dantooine when they’d first landed, it was just a load of dry trees of exaggerated height – none of which he cared to learn the names of and then – then he’d found it: The clearing they were currently standing in, a glade if his holo-net search could be trusted; a cuddle of trees encompassing a pool of water so clear – so crystalline, that the setting sun dyed the entire body of it gold. The edges of the lake were framed with a neighbouring of blooming wildflowers; an assortment of ceruleans, ambers, lilacs and cerise – not totally unlike the splattering of Astrid’s room. It wasn’t anything like Astrid had described of Naboo to him, nothing like the lakeside she and her mother would venture to every summer; for a start, that had waterfalls.

No, this was entirely different. However, he had decided then and there that he would never be able to forgive himself if he didn’t share this discovery with her. He had no appreciation for pretty landscapes, they were wasted on him except, as he beheld Astrid’s transfixed expression; her bright eyes flecked with liquid-golden wonder and cheeks kissed by the shimmering of the lake, he would be ever grateful.

He wasn’t prepared for the wind that rushed out of his lungs as she launched herself at him though, wrapping all four flailing limbs around his armoured torso – tight enough that the plastoid groaned.

He certainly was not prepared for the sobbing either, quickly conjecturing he’d made a colossal mistake before he felt the soft “thank you” she whispered against his neck vibrate through his skin. Only then, did it feel safe to awkwardly wrap his arms securely around her trembling frame and nuzzle his cheek against her crown.

Settling her down and ignoring the irretrievable loss of her warmth, he gazed into her eyes once more; glassed with lumen till they glided shut. She placed a single kiss to his chin, the highest she could reach aided by only her tiptoes, and noiselessly turned back to the landscape.

Astrid was so enthralled, besotted even – that she did not turn away once from the sight as he busied himself behind her. Neyo had to fight against the hot swell in his chest, threatening to climb into his windpipe and heave itself out of his mouth; and the churning of his stomach as his insides hammered at his abdominals. It wasn’t fear anymore, anxiety or stress of rejection – it was unfiltered, raw tenderness and affection that even after a month of holding her; almost a year of having met her – was still utterly ineffable. 

When Astrid’s gape found him again, he’d been able to fight against the urge to join her and had lain his bedsheet beneath the canopy of the widest tree-trunk he could find. Conscientiously, he’d deposited the packs of crackers on the surface before joining them. As Neyo poured the wine into the caf mug, he became afraid she’d start to cry again – she didn’t but, a single teardrop escaped, dragging mirrored moonlight down her face.

She sat to his right and he handed her the mug, clinking the neck of the bottle against the rim before swigging straight from the vessel. She laughed at the crudeness, catching a rare twinkle in his gaze and sipped from her mug. When Astrid brought her head to his shoulder, Neyo didn’t flinch or tense, instead he reached his armoured arm to embrace her narrow shoulders in a motion of such belonging and perfection, he feared he’d find it scrawled into the reg manual on his desk.  
In hindsight, he could have chosen his next words better and with any other couple, they probably would have ruined the moment. “You can’t tell anyone that I took you from the ship.” He rumbled.

Yet Astrid, ever-patient and so loving and so much sweeter than the rye crackers before them giggled at his inelegance. “I know.”

They didn’t speak again after that, there was simply no need for empty words of tenderness or adoration when the love which had blossomed so steadily between them, now radiated in waves of silent but ferocious insistence.

[Break]

Boneless and evaporated of all stress and tension, Neyo had begun dozing off against the tree with Astrid’s head, heavy with cheap wine, resting on his lap as his rough fingers carded through her wind-tangled hair.

Roused suddenly by a tugging on his arm, Neyo stilled his motions. The moon had risen higher, mostly hidden behind grey clouds with an azure glow barely escaping the cracks to twinkle against the ripple of the aqua. A quick glance at the chrono on his wrist comm told him it was a little after midnight.

He glanced down at Astrid, her eyes bright and happy – fighting against sleep but, unfocused. She didn’t register him, just tugged again.

“Yes?” He answered, only slightly perturbed.

Fuck, how much wine had he given her?

“Neyo, I can’t see.” Was her meek yet, amused explanation; moonlit features cast somewhat dopey.

What?! Kriffing hells – fuck! Fuck -fow did that…? Shit – fuck, he can fix this!…He can’t fix this – why the fuck is she laughing?!…Oh.

Oooh! Right, Astrid is half-Hapan; virtually no night vision at all – he’d forgotten about that. Exhaling with relief and chuckling at both the realisation and in response to Astrid’s contagious giggle, he told her to stay where she was as he gathered his meagre belongings and stuffed them into his pack.

He pulled Astrid to her feet – unable to tell if her swaying was from wine, sleepiness or just her own brand of ungainliness. He didn’t think it safe to let her sit behind him this time on the BARC, not when she couldn’t see, so he placed her at the front and slid on behind her; caging her in as he gripped the steering.

Astrid turned her head in his arms, her lips seeking his and assured that she wouldn’t fall from this position, he helped her find them with a grip to her chin; his tongue caressing hers with mute devotion. When they separated, he pulled on his helmet and raced to The Perseverance.

[Break]

The saplings and grasses awakened once more to dance their inaudible tango in the wind cast from Neyo’s BARC as he sped back to the landing. When they arrived, he found himself having to dismount more carefully as Astrid was already sleeping soundly against the solid wall of his chest plate.

Stealth, isn’t a concept he struggled with but it was completely different when lumbered with a body – no matter how petite they are and so, Neyo couldn’t believe his luck when they encountered nought but a lone mouse-droid as he carried Astrid back to his quarters.

She’d only slept in his bunk once in the month they’d been together, there was rarely a good time between their schedules to sneak her in and out of the “clone-zone.” The troopers deck was always packed with foot-traffic but, her roommate would be off shift – and… Oh kriff it, he doesn’t have to rationalise everything does he? Truth is, he wanted her in his room, in his bed. He deserved this hint of domesticity. End of. 

He fumbled in the dark once they reached his quarters, he didn’t want to switch on the intrusive light and interrupt her kip, no doubt blinding her oversensitive eyes in the process. Instead he carefully toed his way to his bunk, only slightly wider than hers, and tucked her under the covers after removing her shoes. When he’d stripped to his greys, he was able to join her. Still not one to spoon, he’d allowed himself a single peck to her crown before turning so they lay back to back, preparing to drift into the void. Then precipitously, as though he’d been commanded by his own dogmatic subconscious decree, he whispered into the dark. “I love you.”

He’d said it. He’d uttered words he thought himself uncapable of and, like a coward – he’d spoken them into the cataleptic darkness rather than her face. It wasn’t fair, that she should suffer from his lack of bravery – no he’d have to say it to her tomorrow, yes tomorrow and –Then, as if the force itself roused her from her the abyss just long enough for her to hear it, she shifted, mumbling before drifting once more and finding his hand in the dark. “I know.”


End file.
